


Black and White Photos

by thescatterbrain



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, i have a lot of trans headcanons okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescatterbrain/pseuds/thescatterbrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After meeting Arthur Kirkland during a photo shoot for his brother, Alfred Jones begins to form a special bond with him.<br/>An exploration of gender and sexuality with two dorks who just want to spend some time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay, what time do you need me there, bro? Three? And you found the other model? Okay, sounds good, I'll be there." Alfred hung up his phone and sat down for his lecture. He shuffled around his textbooks and doodled in his notebook while he thought about what he had been talking to Mattie about. His brother had this grand vision of an idea for his Black and White Photography class and needed two models to be in it. Alfred was more than willing to help Mattie out, but couldn't help but wonder who he had managed to convince to be the other model. Mattie's Photography projects were known for being . . . unconventional. He used images of contortionists, angry wild animals, and even experiments in chemical labs that were about to blow as his subjects, and they gathered a lot of attention. Despite the feeling in his stomach that Mattie was going to make him detach an arm, Al was still excited to help him with his project.

Al looked up at the clock. His lecture would end at two, which would give him enough time to crash back at the apartment he shared with his brother for a bit before the shoot actually happened. His phone buzzed quietly beside him, showing a new message of Mattie setting up the scenery for the shoot. Al smirked and tried to return his attention to the lecture, daydreaming about showing off for the camera.

It was 2:30 when Alfred got back to the apartment. He could hear some shuffling going on in the spare room the twins had established as Mattie's studio. "Mattie bro!" Al called. "You home?"

"Yes, in the studio," came Mattie's soft reply.

"Okay, dude! I'm ready whenever the other model shows up!" Al busied himself with pulling food from the fridge in order to fix himself a sandwhich. He stacked turkey, ham, and roast beef up on the bread and topped it off with pickles and onions. He settled himself on the couch in front of the television and tuned in to an alien discovery documentary. His sandwich was gone within five minutes, and the doorbell rang in the next ten. Al got up and stretched as he walked to the door. He opened it to reveal a tall, thin blonde guy with eyebrows the size of a GameBoy cartridge. The guy frowned at Alfred, as if trying to figure out if he knew him.

"Hello, I am here to see Matthew Williams," the guy said in an unmistakably British accent. "He asked me to model for him for a photography project. Am I in the right place?"

"Yeah, dude, come on in," Al said, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to let him in. "My name's Al, I'm Mattie's sib. He's using me as the other model for this project."

"Nice to meet you Al, my name is Arthur. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He held his hand out for Al to shake, and he took it firmly.

"C'mon, dude. I'll take you to the studio." Al led Arthur to the small room. Mattie was still setting up, and was placing a sheet on a bare mattress when they walked in. "Yo! Mattie bro! Arthur's here!" Mattie looked up at them.

"Oh, okay. I'm almost done setting up. You two can sit around til I'm done." Al shrugged in response and sat against the wall nearby. He looked up at Arthur and patted the ground next to him so he would sit as well. The guy looked a bit tense and Al just wanted him to relax. Arthur looked unsure at first, but decided to sit next to Al.

"So how do you know Mattie?" Al asked him. Arthur shrugged.

"He's friends with my frog of a roommate. They spend quite a bit of time together, so I got to know Matthew whenever Francis would step out to grab us all dinner or something of the sort."

"Wait, your roommate is Francis?" Al asked. "Francis Bonnefoy?" Arthur looked confused as Al started laughing.

"Yes, he is. I don't quite understand the joke."

"Dude, I don't know if you realize this, but Francis and my brother are dating. They're not just 'close friends' like you seem to think. Knowing Francis, I wouldn't be surprised if they've already done it on your bed." Arthur looked horrified at the thought, but before he could say anything on the matter, Mattie was calling them over to begin the shoot.

The scenery Mattie had set up was simple; a mattress lay on the ground with a sheet stretched over it and a rumpled comforter lay on top. There were a few books stacked next to the mattress, and Mattie had lit a few candles in a corner where they wouldn't be knocked over. "Okay," Mattie said, "let's talk costumes."

"I wasn't sure what to come in, but since it was a black and white shoot I thought these would suffice," Arthur said, gesturing to his white shirt and black pants. Mattie spared him a quick glance while he set up his camera.

"Oh, no, I've got costumes taken care of. You won't be needing any of the clothes you've got on. Except for maybe the first few shots," Mattie replied. Arthur shot Al a confused look, but Al just shrugged in reply. Given that Arthur already knew Mattie, he should have full knowledge of what his pictures normally turned out like. The guy should have known he was getting himself into something that was going to be absolutely insane. "Okay you two, get in the shot. Al, take your bomber jacket and shirt off and sit on the mattress. Arthur, sit next to him and act like you're about to take your boots off. Don't look at each other in this shot," Mattie instructed them. Al shrugged his jacket off and peeled his shirt from his torso. He saw Arthur out of the corner of his eye looking very lost as to what direction Mattie was going with this.

Al took his place on the mattress and waited for Arthur to join him. They positioned themselves for the shot with some tweaking from Mattie and the picture was taken. "Okay, now Arthur take your boots off and stand up. I want you to look at Al and I want Al to look up at you." Arthur did as he was told, expression still befuddled. Mattie snapped a few shots before moving on to the next scene.

"Arthur, take your shirt off." Al had to hold back a laugh at Arthur's look of repulsion at the idea of taking his clothes off. He knew Mattie couldn't see the Brit's face, so he stepped in for him.

"Bro, you sure? There isn't another direction you could go with this?" he asked. Mattie shook his head.

"I know exactly how I want this to look, Alfred," Mattie said matter-of-factly. "It's a bit of a different direction than I normally take, but I know this'll look great."

"Okay, you're the boss." Al leaned back on his elbows and looked at Arthur expectantly.

"Oh, that's good. Stay like that Al. C'mon Arthur, take your shirt off." Arthur closed his eyes and pulled his shirt off. Mattie snapped pictures until the clothing was on the floor. Al could see a slight blush color Arthur's ears and neck, but decided to act like it wasn't there. No use in embarrassing the guy even more.

Mattie's vision for their photo shoot seemed to spiral from there. Al was pulling Arthur down onto the mattress while taking his glasses off, then Arthur was pushing Al down onto his back and leaned over him. Mattie even had them pull each other's pants off at one point. By the time Al was in a position where he was now on top of Arthur, straddling his hips and tilting his chin up, both of them were blushing red all over. Al was glad the photographs were going to be in black and white so no one would catch that he was practically glowing crimson.

They were just about to twist themselves into an even more intimate position when a phone began to ring, playing a loud punk song. "Th-that's mine!" Arthur piped up, still trapped beneath Alfred. Al scrambled off of him as quickly as he could, feeling his face grow even warmer.

"Sorry dude!" he said as he rolled from the mattress. Arthur sat up and squared his shoulders before getting up to retrieve his phone. Al tried not to look at an obvious bulge poking at Arthur's underwear, but he had felt it form as Mattie had them lay on top of each other. Speaking of which, Al decided that this shoot had gone too far. Mattie was an innocent soul, but with how edgy his photos were Al was afraid that he and Arthur would become more than intimate subjects, and instead a full-frontal shoot. He pulled Mattie aside while Arthur talked with who had called. "Mattie, this shoot is getting really risque. Please tell me that we're not going any further than what we've already done."

Mattie looked at Al with wide, innocent eyes. "Oh, you betcha. I wanted it to get intimate, but we won't be doing nudes or anything." Al let out a sigh of relief, but regretted it when he heard Mattie mutter under his breath, "Besides, my professor said I couldn't photograph genitals after I turned in that picture of bears mating."

"I'll never understand you, bro. Or how you get such wicked dangerous and ridiculous shots." Right then Arthur finished his phone call and walked back over to the twins. Al was relieved to see that his boxers were no longer tenting, as things didn't need to get even weirder between them.

"That was Francis," Arthur said. "He wants me to bring back some groceries, so I have to be leaving now." Al and Mattie nodded in understanding. "Will we, I mean, do you need us back here again tomorrow, Matthew?" Arthur's ears began to turn pink. Mattie flashed a look at Al, seemingly trying to decide if he wanted to expose his sibling and friend even more.

"No, that won't be necessary. I've got enough to do my project," he finally answered. Arthur sighed, and to Al it sounded . . . dejected? Al couldn't imagine why Arthur would want to come back and finish this shoot, especially given the way he reacted to just being told to take his shirt off.

Al groped around for his glasses, then gathered up Arthur's clothes and threw them at him. "C'mon, dude, get decent," he said as he put his pants back on. "I'll walk you to your car." Arthur picked at his clothes, like he was deciding what to put on first. Al could not read his expression too well, but it definitely appeared as though he was hiding something. Eventually he threw his shirt over his head and tugged his pants onto his hips, and Al was able to show him back through the house. "How'd you like the shoot?" Al asked him.

"It was . . . interesting, to say the least. I never imagined Matthew to be the kinky type." Al let out a loud guffaw at this. "What?" Arthur asked, mildly defensive.

"Nothing, it's just that-neither did I, bro." Before they knew it, they had reached Arthur's car. Arthur shuffled from foot to foot, looking regretful to go.

"I, uh, this may sound strange but I did enjoy myself," he eventually admitted. Al raised an eyebrow at him. "N-not to say the part where we had to strip down half naked and feel each other up! I mean, it was nice talking to you when we got the chance. I hope we see each other soon, sometime." Arthur then ducked swiftly into his car and started the ignition. Al slapped the roof of the car and waved Arthur off as he drove away.

"Me too, buddy. Me too."


	2. Chapter 2

It was far too late-or rather, far too early-when the phone started ringing. Al groaned and rolled over to grab it out of it's stand and see who it was. Mattie's number hazily took shape as Al answered the phone. "Bro, it's two in the morning. What is it?"

"Al, don't hate me for this, but I need you to come pick Francis and me up. We're ten miles from campus and his car broke down. We need you to drive us back to his dorm," Mattie's mildly panicked voice came through the speaker. Al sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Be there in a few minutes." He hung up and began throwing on clothes, trying to make sure he looked at lease half decent before he began driving in the middle of the night to who-knows-where to pick up Mattie and his idiot boyfriend. Al shoved his glasses onto his face and grabbed the car keys from his nightstand, moaning like a zombie as he shuffled outside to the car.

Fifteen minutes later he found the two, stranded out by Francis's ugly little Volkswagon. Al pulled over and got out to assess the damage. Both of the boys seemed alright, and the car had just run out of gas. Al sighed with relief that they were okay. "C'mon you guys, hop in. I've got some chains in the back I can use to tow Francis's car back." Francis and Mattie did as Al said, muttering thank you's under their breath as they shuffled to the back of Al's car. He hooked the buggie to his Jeep, vaguely questioning whether or not that was legal, and drove the boys back to Francis's dorm. When they entered, Arthur was sitting on his bed with a mixed expression of worry and exasperation.

"Where have you two been?" he demanded. "You said you'd be back by midnight and now it's well past two in the morning!" His eyes flitted up to see Al standing behind the guilty pair and quirked a thick eyebrow up.

"My car ran out of gas," Francis explained. "Mathieu called Alfred to pick us up, and he towed my car back as well."

"And now I'm exhausted and have to wake up in four hours for a class," Al said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna head back. Mattie you staying here or coming back to the house?" Mattie shuffled from foot to foot as he thought.

"Why don't you both spend the night?" Arthur suddenly interjected. The twins looked quizzically at him and he immediately began backpedaling. "Th-that's if you want to of course! Matthew spends half his nights here anyway, and I just thought it would be easier on Al if he slept here since we live close to campus!"

Francis was all over this idea like a dog on a fresh bone. He began making sleeping arrangements so that Mattie was in his bed and that Al and Arthur could share Arthur's bed. At this Arthur visibly reddened and his shoulders went stiff. His eyes blew wide and he tried to diffuse Francis's plan.

"N-no, that's quite alright!" Everyone looked at him, wondering what the problem was. Alfred frowned, sensing Arthur was uncomfortable with the proposal, and pulled his car keys from his pocket.

"It's fine. I'll just head home an-"

"No!" Arthur blurted suddenly. Everyone stared again. Francis had never seen his roommate make such an outburst, and was wondering what had Arthur so tightly wound. "I mean, you can stay, you can sleep in my bed, it's fine, I'll just sleep on the floor." Arthur's words were coming out like a faulty garbage disposal; messy, and spewing all over the place. Al rolled his shoulders and grabbed the blanket from Arthur's bed, laying it on the floor before collapsing on top of it.

"Keep your bed dude. I'm fine on the floor with this thing." Al took off his glasses and grinned cheekily up at Arthur's blurry figure, which had lost some of his blush and was giving a half glare.Eventually he laid onto his own bed, muttering to himself.

"If you want," he said quietly to Al while Mattie and Francis were in the bathroom changing, "you could sleep in my bed with me. I wouldn't mind too much." Now it was Al's turn to blush. He hadn't seen Arthur since Mattie's photo shoot a week ago, which means the last physical contact they had was literally sitting in each other's laps. Al didn't blame Arthur for being nervous, but getting all flustered himself was surprising. Al stood up, clutching the blanket, and crawled into Arthur's bed. Arthur stiffened in surprise, but slowly began to relax. Al lay behind him, both of them on their sides, and Al suddenly realized that if he closed the very small gap between them they'd be spooning.

_Get it together man_ , Al thought to himself. _You did this to prove to yourself that the second interaction you have with a guy you nearly nailed for a photo shoot doesn't have to be awkward. Stop blushing so freaking hard._ Unfortunately, not blushing was a very difficult task. Arthur was smaller than Al, shorter and more slender, and Al thought that he would fit perfectly in the crook of his arm. Arthur's back was curved and almost touching Al's chest. He could feel the warmth radiating off of the guy, and more warmth build in his cheeks. Trying to distract himself, Al threw the blanket over the both of them. Arthur sighed contently when it landed cozily over his shoulders and Al thought to himself, _That has got to be one of the cutest sounds on the planet._

The sound of a shower running came from the bathroom, and Al figured that Mattie and Francis must be showering together. He had a bit of time until they finished up (and if Francis wanted to make out with Mattie, then he had even longer), and scooted a tiny bit closer to Arthur. Arthur snuggled down into Al's chest, and Al felt his heart hammer. He listened to Arthur's breathing, and found him drawing in long, even breaths. He had already fallen asleep. _Okay Al, no big deal. This guy is just asleep and you two are spooning on his bed. Totally chill._ Slowly, Al started to relax. He found that having Arthur pressed up against his chest was actually really comfortable. Al settled into the bed more and closed his eyes, thinking that his second time sharing a mattress with Arthur was much more preferable to his first.

Al awoke to the sound of an alarm clock blaring "God Save The Queen". He tried to move his arm to rub his eyes, and found it wrapped around a body. A body that was also waking up to the sound of the alarm. Al tried to move away, but his other arm was trapped beneath the body. It would have been different if he was at home and this was Mattie, who sometimes liked to sleep with Al when it was cold or he got scared because Al was soft and warm and pretty top notch at cuddling. But this wasn't Mattie. This was Arthur. And this was the second time he had ever been around Arthur. And they were spooning.

Arthur did eventually come to, and when he realized that Al was still holding his waist he shot upright, screaming, "What the hell?" Al sat up as well, arms finally free. He grinned at Arthur sheepishly.

"Turns out I prefer mattresses to blankets on the ground after all," he tried to joke. Arthur still looked shocked and slightly mortified as he remembered Al climbing into his bed the night before, but seemed to relax nonetheless. He looked away from Al and rubbed his arm nervously.

"Y-you've got a class this morning, right?" he asked. Before Al could answer, a very annoyed voice came from the other bed in the room.

"Could you two stop flirting and turn off that horrible noise? " Francis yelled, sounding very tired and very exasperated. Mattie was curled up against him and frowned in his sleep at the sound of Francis's distress. Al offered Francis a less eager smile and slid off of Arthur's bed.

"Alright, alright Frenchie. Keep your pants on." Al was still in his sweatpants and tank top that he threw on the night before to get Francis and Mattie. He pushed his glasses onto his face, pulled on his shoes and grabbed his car keys from where they had been abandoned on the ground. "Well, I'm heading out. Might as well go to class right now, since we're near campus. Mattie, you got any gum I can borrow?"

His brother nodded as he put his own glasses on, tossing Al a small green pack. Al gratefully pulled out a stick and chomped on it eagerly. "Why don't you drive Arthur as well?" Francis suddenly spoke up. Al frowned at him and Arthur blushed something fierce.

"You got class too, Artie?" Al asked. Arthur started to nod, then seemed to be taken aback.

"Artie? What an absurd nickname. Don't call me that. Arthur is just fine," he said. Al laughed and shrugged.

"Whatever, dude. But if you want to get to class you better change out of your grandpa pajamas and get some clothes on." Al wondered if Arthur had a skin color besides bright red, because he only ever seemed to be in embarrassing situations. Arthur quickly grabbed some clothes from his wardrobe before running into the bathroom to change. A fleeting thought crossed Al's mind as he wondered why the guy didn't just change in front of everyone else like roommates normally do, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead he turned to Mattie and Francis and asked quietly, "Hey, uh, can I borrow some eyeliner or a headband?" Understanding, Mattie went to go grab a stick from his pile of things he left at Francis's over the years.

"Having a femme day, then?" he asked. Al nodded, feeling a little embarrassed but still relieved Mattie still kept some makeup and clothing from before his transition. "Don't worry about Arthur. He's not the type to get uptight about this, so it's okay to wear it in front of him," Matthew reassured him. Al nodded again, throat still feeling a bit tight. He chewed his gum a bit faster. He was generally comfortable dressing femininely when he wanted to, but always felt weird about it when it was around someone new. He was glad he had Mattie and Francis there for support.

"Thanks, bro," he said, taking the eyeliner pencil. Arthur soon came out of the bathroom, hair still looking disheveled but wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt instead of button down pajamas. Al grinned at him, albeit a bit weakly. "Ready to go?" When Arthur nodded, Al grabbed his arm and tugged him out the door, shouting his goodbyes to Matthew and Francis over Arthur's protests of being hauled.

Al started the car once he climbed in, then flipped down the overhead mirror and pulled off his glasses. He felt his stomach twist a bit as he began to apply the eyeliner and bit down hard on the gum to try and still his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur cock his head to the side. Al quickly put the makeup on, then shoved his glasses back on and put the mirror up. He didn't say anything about the eyeliner, but Arthur apparently didn't have that kind of filter.

“Why are you wearing eyeliner?” he asked. His tone didn’t sound accusatory, but curious. That helped to calm Al’s nerves a bit.

“I’m just…feeling a bit feminine today. I guess I’m having a girl day,” Al responded. He gave an awkward chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. Arthur’s thick eyebrows furrowed even more at that, and Al knew exactly what question was coming next. 

“You and your brother are both trans?” Al’s eyes widened and he threw Arthur a sharp look. That was not what he had been expecting. 

“You know about Mattie?” he asked. Arthur nodded. 

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s apparently been dating my roommate for quite some time now. You think I don’t notice the binder he always leaves and the tampon wrappers in the trash?” Al was so shocked, he didn’t know how to respond. He opted for a small nod and remained quiet. From the small amount of time Arthur had known him, he must have recognized that this was out of character. He tried to continue the conversation further. “So, I mean, what is your gender? And what pronoun should I use and all that?” He sounded as though he was unsure he was asking the right question. Al relaxed a bit, releasing tension in his shoulders he hadn’t realized was there. 

“I’m fluid, dude. Like, I flip between genders. It can be a pain sometimes,” he said with a small laugh. “As for pronouns, it doesn’t matter much to me. Really anything goes. Most people just go with ‘he’ since I’ve got a masculine look and all that. But anything is chill, really.” He cast a sideways glance towards Arthur, trying to gauge his reaction while still focusing on the road. He thought he saw Arthur give a small nod. 

“Alright, then. I think I’ve got it. If you ever want me to use something different, just tell me,” Arthur’s response eventually came. Al couldn’t help it; he cracked a huge grin and punched Arthur playfully on the shoulder. 

“You’re alright, Brit Boy,” he said. Arthur stuck his tongue out at him, but was laughing just the same. 

They pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. Arthur seemed to stall by the truck, as though reluctant to leave. Al glanced at him. “What, you want me to walk you to class?” he joked. Arthur blushed, murmuring something under his breath about not being opposed to the idea. Al smirked and threw his arm over Arthur's shoulder. “Fine, alright,” he said with a smile. “I'll take you to class like a good chauffeur.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warnings for the movie Saw (the first one). Also the plot of Chicago is summarized if you consider that a spoiler.

Al ran into Matthew’s room holding up two ties. “Mattie, quick! Which looks better, the blue or the green?” Mattie spared his sibling a quick glance before returning to the photos he was editing. 

“What are you getting all dressed up for?” he asked. 

“I have a presentation tomorrow and this professor grades easier if you dress professionally. Now which tie?” He shook the ties in Mattie’s face, prompting him for an answer.

“Darn. Thought you actually had a date for once,” Mattie sighed quietly. “The green one. The blue would look tacky with that sweater vest.”

“Thanks bro!” Al said. He tossed the blue tie aside and began knotting the green one around his neck. As he was finishing adjusting it, he said, “Why do you want me to get a date so bad?”

Mattie looked up innocently. “Hm? Oh, you’re just cooped up in this apartment all day, it would just be nice if you got out every once in awhile. If you want, I could try and ask around for you…”

“Whoa man, slow down. I don’t need your help getting a date, I could do that all on my own. I’m plenty flirty enough.”

“Then why don’t you?” Mattie challenged, getting up out of his chair. “Why don’t you go to the college bar right now and pick up the nearest whomever?” He put his hands on his hips and stood up on his toes to glare at Al. Al avoided Matthew’s stare and rubbed his neck with the back of his hands. 

“I-I don’t know Mattie. I just haven’t found anyone I like. I don’t want to just hit up a couple of one-night stands, I’d like an actual relationship. But no one I’ve met has really caught my eye,” he admitted. Mattie huffed and backed down, crossing his arms. 

“You always were a romantic, eh? And even if you haven’t seen someone, I think someone has definitely seen you.” Al’s eyebrows shot up at the statement.

“Wait, what? You know someone that’s into me? Who?”

Mattie rolled his eyes and shoved Al out the door. “Don’t worry about it. You have a presentation to do, right?”

Al could not focus on his presentation as well as he would have liked. The hint Mattie had dropped had left him a bit shaken, surprised that Mattie had noticed someone’s attraction to him before he did. Al figured it should not have affected him as much as it did, but he could not help but be curious. He was not even sure if he wanted to date anyone right now, but he needed to know either way. What he did know was that there was no way Mattie would tell him outright, so he needed to find a way to coax other hints out of his brother. Luckily he knew a few of Mattie’s weaknesses…

“I’m home!” Al called into doorway as he shouldered his way inside. His arms were laden down with large grocery bags, making fine movements like turning door knobs difficult. “Mattie?” he shouted again when there was no response. He frowned and went to put the groceries in the kitchen. The bags were almost dropped when he saw not his brother, but Arthur standing in front of him. “Artie!” Al gasped in surprise. “I didn’t know you were over!”

Arthur did not exactly look happy to be there. “Francis dragged me over so he could see Matthew, and said that I should be fine with coming since you and I knew each other. I apologize if I’m any bother, but I don’t exactly have a way of getting home on my own. I would leave Francis here if he didn’t keep the keys.” Al readjusted the bags in his arms and carefully placed them on the counter. 

“It’s no problem dude, I was just shocked. Glad to see you, actually!” 

Arthur blushed faintly, and Al wondered what he had done to make him flustered. “Er, do you need help with any of those?” Arthur asked quickly. Al shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Not really. Most of it is just stuff to bribe Mattie with,” Al said.

“What for?” Arthur asked.

“Well, I guess you could say he kind of dropped a huge bomb on me, but only the bare minimum. He won’t share any details and I’m going to get him all buttered up so that he’ll leak something,” Al admitted. Arthur frowned at him.

“I guess that’s all fine and well, but what are you trying to find out exactly?”

Al smirked. “Apparently there’s someone who’s interested in me, and I’m going to find out who Mattie is talking about.” Arthur’s face reddened again, and Al wondered if romance was just something that made him easily embarrassed. “If you want to help, I need to get some pancakes and bacon going, so you can mix up the batter if you want.” Al pulled a box of pancake mix out of one of the bags along with a pack of raw bacon. He tossed the box to Arthur, who just barely caught it. “C’mon dude,” Al said, “let’s get cooking. 

While he stirred eggs and water into the mix, Arthur seemed very intrigued as to Al’s love life. He asked about past relationships, and if he had a type, and where he liked to go on dates. Al’s answers were simple: twice, not really, and anywhere but the movies. 

“You don’t like movies?” Arthur accused.

“No, it’s not that. I love a good action movie or chick flick as much as the next person, but movie dates are so boring,” Al said. “I mean, yeah movies are great, but there is no opportunity to connect and get to know the person you’re on a date with, and that’s the whole point of the date, right? Now watching one at home is different, once you’ve gotten to know each other. It means you can have it on as background noise while you do...other stuff.”

Arthur nodded, not seeming to want to prod as to what Al meant by “other stuff”. He coughed awkwardly, and slowly stuttered out, “So, do you, I mean, I don’t wish to be rude and prying, but I was just wondering...your sexuality?” Al smirked to himself, contemplating the question. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it. I like people, but romance and sex aren’t things I want to jump right into it.” He sighed. “Call me a hopeless romantic or old-fashioned, but I like getting to know people before I decide my attraction for them. As for gender,” he shrugged, “just fuck me up. I don’t think it really matters, especially with how my own gender is never a consistent thing.” Arthur laughed a bit, but seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Al took the bowl of batter from him and said, “What about you? Got someone you’re interested in? Or a gender?”

“Oh! Well, um, I guess you could say there’s someone I’ve been thinking about, but I don’t think they’ve noticed. As for gender, I’ve always been more into guys.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Okay, scratch that, I’m only into guys.” Al laughed and nodded.

“Been there a couple times.” Al dipped a finger into the batter to taste it, and his face instantly screwed up in displeasure. “Ugh, dude what did you do? This stuff is disgusting.” Arthur frowned and tasted the batter. 

“I think it tastes fine. What’s wrong with it?”

“Are you kidding? It’s so bland and gross. And...salty? What the hell? Good thing I know how to fix it.” Al reached up to a cupboard and pulled out the cinnamon and sugar. He dumped some of each into the batter and stirred it in, then grabbed a bottle of maple syrup from the grocery bags and added a splash. He tasted the batter once more and smiled. “Much better. Let’s get these on the griddle now.” 

Arthur hovered in the background while Al made the pancakes. After managing to get box mix pancake batter to taste bad, Al was not letting him touch anything else in the kitchen. When he had a towering stack of pancakes on one plate and a heap of glistening bacon on the other, Al began to carry them over to Mattie’s room. Al and Arthur were met halfway by none other than Mattie himself, his nose in the air. He looked at the food Al held and his eyes widened. 

“Mathieu!” came a call from down the hall. Francis appeared as Mattie reached for the pancakes. 

“Everything alright Francis?” Al asked.

“I was trying to enjoy a very sweet, romantic, intimate moment with my dear boyfriend when he gets up because he smells bacon cooking! What is this sorcery?”

Al laughed. “C’mon Mattie, let's bring it to the table.” He handed the pancakes to his brother and walked back to the kitchen. Mattie sat down, munching on a pancake and making a grab for the maple syrup. Al snatched it out of his hands before he could down the bottle. “Nuh-uh. You’re not getting this stuff-” he grabbed the plate of pancakes back, “-until you fess up. Who were you saying liked me?”

Mattie looked mildly surprised at this request, but coolly glanced over Al’s shoulder at Arthur and back to Al. “I’m not telling,” he said stubbornly. Al glared at him. 

“C’mon, dude! Why not?” 

“Because it’s up to them to do it themselves. Just because you are way too oblivious to notice who it is doesn’t mean I should just tell you,” Mattie said. “Now if you will please give me my pancakes and syrup-”

“No way,” Al said, picking up the plates of food. “You don’t deserve this food Artie watched me make. We’re going to eat it on the porch.” He nodded to the nervous Brit in the corner and walked out of the kitchen. “C’mon Arthur, let’s go enjoy all of this bacon and maple syrup.”

Arthur nervously followed Al outside to the picnic table the siblings had. Al placed the food onto it aggressively, and began eating in just as moody of a manner. Arthur frowned and sat across from him, putting a couple pancakes on his own plate. Al scarfed down five pancakes and four pieces of bacon, then slammed his silverware down. “I can’t believe he won’t just tell me!” he exclaimed suddenly, making Arthur jump a little at the outburst. “Here I am sitting on the couch by myself, hoping for a good relationship opportunity to announce itself, and he has the nerve to say I’m _oblivious?_ He’s-ugh!-being so ridiculous!” Al pouted at the tacky syrup drying to the plate. Arthur quirked up an eyebrow at Al, who snapped “What?” at him.

“Well, Matthew may have a point if the person he’s talking about asked him not to share,” Arthur said.

“Great, so now you’re taking his side,” Al sulked further. Arthur sighed, clearly irritated. 

“Listen, Alfred, you can either sit here acting like a child throwing a fit, or you can open your eyes and look for people sending you signals and whatnot. But for now I am not going to sit here while you whine about how your brother is giving you a hard time.” Arthur was standing now, leaning across the table while he supported himself on his hands. Al was surprised by Arthur’s lecture, but took it to heart. Before he was able to reply, however, Arthur had sat down, looking rather embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper at you.”

“No, you’re right,” Al admitted. “I’m being stupid and feeling sorry for myself. Mattie’s right too; I’m not really good at noticing when people are making moves on me all the time.” Al groaned and leaned back in his chair, pushing his glasses up into his hair as he pressed his palms into his eyes. He bounced back a second later, eyes bright as he grabbed Arthur once again. “C’mon, now’s not the time for looking to romance myself. Let’s go watch a movie and I’ll take you home.” 

Arthur was surprised by how quickly Al had let go of the subject, and that he was being literally dragged once again into another friendly activity. Al had dropped his hand when they got to the living room and was rifling through the selection of movies he and his brother owned. Mattie and Francis were nowhere in sight, which meant they were either in Mattie’s room together or Francis had abandoned Arthur to go back home, with or without Mattie it did not really matter. Arthur was just glad to have the French frog out of his hair for now. 

Al jumped up and plopped next to Arthur on the couch with a huge grin on his face. The movie was already starting. “What did we decide on?” Arthur asked, despite not getting a say in what they were watching. Al winked at Arthur. 

“A classic. Saw.” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows so that they connected into one thick line. 

“You like horror movies?”

“Yeah dude! They’re cool and thrilling. You’re not gonna chicken out at the movie are you?” The question came as a challenge, and Arthur puffed his chest out. 

“No way, I’m as tough as they come. This movie isn’t even that scary,” he stated. 

“It’s on then,” Al replied, and the two fell into silence as the movie began. 

It did not take long for Al to curl into Arthur from fear. After Adam and Lawrence found the recorder and found out what they needed to do to survive, Al had scooched across the three inches separating him and Arthur and pressed his back against the couch. At the sight of the saws, he hid his face in Arthur’s shoulder. Billy the Puppet making his appearance had Al holding onto Arthur’s hand for dear life and shaking all over. Arthur, who was barely fazed by the gory film, paused the movie and turned to Al. 

“Alfred? Are you alright? Should we watch something else?” he asked, worried.

Al had his eyes squeezed shut, but opened them slowly to meet Arthur’s eyes. Al looked absolutely terrified. He shook his head uneasily, but held Arthur’s hand even tighter. “I-I want to finish it. I’m n-n-not scared.” He tried to give a brave laugh, but it came out weak and stuttering. 

“Al, come here,” Arthur said. He opened up his arms and Al wrapped himself around his torso. Arthur rubbed his hand up and down his back, feeling the contours of Al’s muscles and bones. “It’s okay if you don’t want to finish the film,” he said soothingly. “We can watch something else. You don’t have to prove you’re tough because you can watch a horror movie.” Al gripped his shirt, face buried in his chest. They remained there for a few minutes, Arthur rubbing circles into Al’s back while Al collected himself. Eventually, Al loosened his hold on Arthur’s shirt and resurfaced from his chest. Arthur cupped Al’s face in his palm. “Better?” he asked. Al nodded gratefully and looked anxiously at the frozen television screen, which still had an image of the puppet telling Amanda how to escape the reverse bear trap. 

“Can we watch something else?” Al asked quietly. Arthur nodded. 

“Of course. What do you want?” Arthur stood up to change the movie so that Al would not have to get closer to Billy. 

“Uh, well, there’s a copy of Chicago in there. We don’t have to watch the whole thing if you want to get back soon,” Al said. Arthur pulled out the DVD and looked at the cover skeptically. It featured two women dressed in tights and corsets, each holding a gun. Arthur frowned as he put the disc in to play it. He settled back on the couch next to Al.

“What is this movie even about?” he asked.

“It’s a Broadway musical about a woman who kills a guy she’s having an affair with and gets sent to jail and her trial where she pleads self defense,” Al explained. 

“That sounds ridiculous. It better be good.”


	4. Chapter 4

Al woke up to the sound of a digital camera going off. He groaned and opened his eyes. His glasses were askew on his face and he was sprawled across Arthur’s lap, who was also waking up. He looked up and saw Mattie snapping photos of the two of them on the couch. Realizing what was going on woke him up fast, and he jumped up to snatch the camera out of his brother’s hands. Mattie laughed and winked at the pair on the couch.

“How sweet. Maybe I can use these photos for my project, give a more domestic feel to it,” he said. Al glared at him, quickly turning his attention back to the camera he was going through. Arthur had stood up as well, but was still half asleep as he leaned against Al’s shoulder while his glazed eyes scanned the pictures. 

Al hated how good of a photographer Mattie was sometimes. Images of him sleeping with his head in Arthur’s lap, waist encircled by Arthur’s arm stood out with incredible perspective. The lighting hit Arthur’s hair just right to bring out more of its yellow, and caused a small glint to reflect off of Al’s glasses. The angle caught the innocence and simplicity of the scene. Arthur shifted against Al as he watched him flip through the pictures. “These’re good,” he mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. Al’s heart swelled up in his chest at the sound of how tired Arthur still was. _He is absolutely precious._

“Yeah, don’t need to tell me twice,” Al groaned as he handed the camera back to Mattie. “Curse you and your stupid ability to embarrass me artistically enough that I can’t even delete the evidence.” Mattie beamed at his sibling, evidently proud of his work.

“Don’t blame me. You two are worse than Francis and I sometimes with how cutesy and cuddly you are.” With that he flounced away, no doubt to fill in the aforementioned French of his findings. Al slapped his palm to his face, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Arthur was still next to him, shuffling from foot to foot as he pulled a blanket on the couch onto his shoulders. 

“It’s cold in here,” he mumbled, words still slurring slightly. Al felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as warmth spread through his chest at the sound of Arthur’s tired voice. 

“C’mon, let's get you warm then,” Al said, taking Arthur’s wrist (because the hand was too damn intimate right now) and leading him to the kitchen. He poured some coffee into two mugs and pulled out the cream and sugar in case either of them decided that black was too harsh.

Al blew on his drink, the steam fogging up his glasses slightly. He took them off to wipe clean on his shirt. He glanced up at Arthur’s blurry figure, watching as the vague image played with the handle of the mug instead of taking a drink. “You don’t like coffee?” 

“Ah, well, I prefer tea more myself but coffee is fine. No bother, really, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well...we’ve been spending more time together, and I suppose it would make sense seeing as Matthew spends a lot of time back at my place, so I was wondering if I could get your number?”

Al put his fog-free glasses back on the bridge of his nose and shrugged. “Sure dude. All you had to do was ask.” He grabbed a nearby pen and scrap of paper and scribbled the digits on it. He handed it to Arthur with a wink. “Don’t forget to text me so I can get yours too.”

It had been a while since Arthur had flushed because of Al, despite Mattie busting them for the previous night, but his ears turned bright red as he accepted the paper. “I-I will. Soon.” He smiled up at Al, who felt himself get struck in that same soft spot in his chest that Arthur seemed to have wriggled himself into and called home. Al quickly drained his coffee mug and cleared his throat.

“So, uh, you want a ride home now?” 

“Oh, right. Yes, thank you.”

Mattie was waiting for Al when he got back home. “So,” he said, a smirk on his face that told Al his brother was going to flex his PhD in Being a Dick. “Let's talk about Arthur.”

Al frowned. “Why? What about him?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that you’ve been getting all blushy and flustered around him lately. Not to mention he’s been your favorite topic of conversation ever since you spent the night at his and Francis’s place.”

Al blushed hard, making a mental note to not bring Arthur up in any more dinner conversations. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

Mattie rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated with Al’s refusal to admit anything. “It has to do with the fact you have a huge crush on Arthur. Don’t bother denying it, it would be obvious to a two year old.” Al coughed and avoided Mattie’s eyes. He had entertained the notion of having feelings his new friend, but could not say anything for certain. 

“I mean, maybe. I really don’t know Mattie. And besides, you might be biased with how you’ve been so adamant about me finding a date,” he said defensively. 

“Maybe, but Francis has been looking for the right person for Arthur for years, so he might be too.”

Al’s eyes grew wide at this. “You-you mean that Francis thinks Arthur’s got the hots for me?” Mattie gave him the usual shit-eating grin. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Mattie left with his words hanging in the air and ringing in Al’s ears. He steadied himself by leaning against the kitchen counter, heart hammering slightly as he tried to process the fact that Arthur might return his unclear affections. _Didn’t Artie say that he was interested in someone the other day?_ Al thought. _Is it possible he was talking about me? I mean, I don’t want to ruin our friendship but being more than friends would be…_

Al stopped his train of thought as he realized he was smiling and blushing slightly at the thought of doing dumb cute things like holding Arthur’s hand or giving him a goodbye kiss. He sank down to the floor and stared down the wall across from him. He would not say he was in deep per say, but this little crush had been blooming, slowly as it was, ever since he had spent the night at Arthur’s dorm.

He pushed his glasses into his hair as his palms pressed into his eyes. As obligated as he felt to now ask the guy out (and the fact that he just plain wanted to) Al knew he could not. There was one glaring detail Mattie had overlooked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for use of the t-slur and some physical and verbal harassment.

“There is no way Arthur actually wants to date me. I can’t ask him out, and Hell will probably freeze over before he does.”

Al was in his brother’s room, laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling pessimistically. He was in the process of confronting Mattie about the slight issue he had found in the theory of Arthur’s crush. Mattie was seated backwards in a chair, head resting on his arm as his patience wore thin with his whiny sibling. 

“And why’s that?” he asked. 

“ _Because_ , Mattie, Arthur’s gay.”

“I fail to see the problem.”

“He only likes guys! I know I look like one and sometimes am one and all, but what about when I’m a girl? What if he doesn’t like that, or when I’m neither or somewhere weird in between? He said so himself; ‘I’m only into guys’.” 

Mattie sighed, recognizing a worked up Alfred when he saw one. “Al, the only way you can know for sure if Arthur really isn’t capable of liking you despite his exclusive past with cis guys, then you might as well shut up about him and find someone else to pine after. If you actually think Arthur is so strict in his ways as a homosexual man, then there is no point in even liking him.” Mattie held up a hand to stop Al when he sat up to protest. “And before you say anything about not helping your feelings, I know that attraction doesn't work that way, but distraction does. You claimed to be a flirt, so if you want to get over a guy you’re giving up hope on before you even gave him a chance, then go into town to find yourself a new crush.” 

The room fell silent for a while while Al contemplated his brother’s words. He frowned and smashed Mattie’s pillow into his face. Mattie stood up and tried to hoist the heavy moping body off his bed. “C’mon, let's go out to get some burgers.”

Al instantly perked at the idea, and quickly rolled off the bed. “Five Guys or Smashburger?” he asked, pulling on a cardigan over the sundress he had been lounging around in. Mattie shrugged. 

“Either is fine, as long as it gets you up and out of the house.”

Back home, belly full of garlicky meat and french fries, Al was feeling better about the Arthur situation. Something Mattie had said about not even giving Arthur a chance stuck with him, so Al decided to test the waters and see how it all worked out. He groaned as he stretched out over the couch, wondering how he should ask Arthur out. Or when. They had not known each other for long, and Al was not sure if Arthur would be fine with going on a date with a person he had only known for roughly a few weeks. 

A small voice in the back of his mind decided to join the debate with, _He was okay with sleeping in the same bed the second time you saw each other. He offered, remember?_ Al rolled his eyes at the voice, but could not help blushing slightly while the memory of Arthur against his chest and sighing contently replayed in his head. 

Mattie walked in and sat on Al’s legs as he turned on the tv. “I’m a little tired of finding you blushing or groaning every time I join the room, so we’re taking a thorough break from the Europe boys.” 

“Francis included?” Al asked, raising a brow skeptically. Mattie nodded and flipped on a sitcom. He moved off of Al’s shins and pushed them off the cushion he wished to claim. 

“Your shins are bony,” he commented nonchalantly. Al laughed and retaliated with how Mattie’s tailbone was not much better. The twins ignored the show playing in the background as they threw half-baked insults and banter at each other, Al glad to have a focus on something other than Arthur for once. 

That was until he showed up at the door.

The doorbell rang through the small house of the twins, and Al was surprised to see “the Europe boys”, as Mattie had called them. Francis had his arm slung over Arthur’s shoulders, mischievous grin on his face. Arthur looked petrified. “ _Bonjour_ , Alfred. I am here to pick up Mathieu for a surprise date. Would you be so obliged to get him for me?”

Al frowned, feeling slightly self-conscious of his dress since he had never worn one around Arthur before. “If you’re just here to get Mattie, then why is Artie with you?” Francis gave a tinkling laugh and winked at Al. 

“I don’t trust him to make himself dinner, so I thought you two could spend some time together.” Both Al and Arthur blushed, though Arthur seemed to bristle as well.

“I can take care of myself just fine, Francis!” he insisted. Instead of listening, Francis just pushed Arthur inside the house and called for Mattie. 

“ _Cher?_ I’m here to sweep you off your feet once more!” He let himself in to grab his boyfriend before disappearing with him. Al and Arthur were left alone, unsure of what to do. 

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Arthur started. “Francis doesn’t always listen when I say I can manage on my own. He thinks his own cooking is so superior that he won’t let me do it for myself.”

“Don’t sweat it, man. I was just shocked. Wasn’t exactly preparing for guests, so it’s not like I can feed you any better,” Al replied with a laugh. “I think we have some leftover spaghetti, or I could throw us some omelets together if you want.”

“No, that’s quite alright! Er, you don’t need to give me dinner, that’s fine. Why don’t we do something else?”

“I mean, there’s not much to do unless you want to watch another movie,” Al admitted. Arthur smirked at him. 

“We can figure something out.”

Apparently what Arthur had in mind was commandeering Al’s car and driving them to an obscure pub downtown. It looked dirty and greasy, the door made of dark wood and the painted letters of the sign peeling off to a point where Al could not read it anymore. A group of teenagers stood in a huddle, smoking cigarettes while a man stumbled out of the pub to throw up in the gutter. Al gave Arthur a look that said, _you go to places like this?_ Arthur took his hand as Al had done to him many times before and tugged him inside. 

The dim lighting gave light to old tables and sticky floors, with people drinking out of large mugs and baskets of fries being served. The stench was that of spilled alcohol, frying oil, and the musk of smelly men. Al was regretting having worn a skirt that particular day, as the flowy fabric around his legs left him feeling exposed. Arthur turned to him, saying something about sitting at the bar instead of getting a table. Still holding Al’s hand, he led the two of them over to the seats he had in mind.

“Okay, this was the last place I thought you would spend time in,” Al admitted when they sat down and Arthur let go of his hand. 

“Oh, well, I suppose I do give off the aura of being pretty stuck up,” Arthur said with a laugh. “But I’m not that posh. I just believe in upholding one’s dignity when they can.” Arthur turned to the bartender and ordered a pint of some ale Al had never heard of before. 

The bartender nodded and asked, “And for your date?”

Arthur blushed a bit, saying, “Oh, no, I’m sorry, she’s not my date. But what will you take Al?”

Al was rooted in the spot over the shock of first being called Arthur’s date and then Arthur’s referring to him as “she”. He liked how comfortable Arthur seemed to be flipping pronouns around. Realizing that everyone was still waiting for an answer, he quickly said, “Just a whiskey for me, please.” The bartender nodded again and went to get the drinks. Al turned back to Arthur with a smile. “She?” He realized that he was twirling his hair around his finger flirtatiously, as if trying to better fit the image of a girl.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want to me say that, I just figured since you’re wearing a dress that calling you she would make you more comfortable and-”

“No, it’s fine,” Al cut him off with a laugh. “I was just shocked. I liked it, really.” The bartender returned with their drinks, placing a large mug in front of Arthur and a small glass half filled with whiskey in front of Al. “So you drink much?” Al asked.

“On occasion. Don’t turn this into another competition, you American. I don’t need the equivalent of a frat boy party in a person challenging me to a drinking contest,” Arthur bluntly stated. Al laughed loudly. 

“Frat boy? You think I’m an entire frat boy party? I’m impressed with my own skill.” Arthur rolled his eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he took a drink. 

He probably could have been able to tell from how small Arthur was in frame and weight, but Al did not expect him to be so much of a lightweight. Featherweight. After half of the pint, he was already giggling madly at anything Al said. When the pint was gone, his face was bright red and he was leaning on the bar, mumbling about the small identity crisis he was having. Al’s glass of whiskey was long gone, but he did not order anything else as he seemed to now be the designated driver. 

Arthur ordered another pint, but Al told the bartender to cut it with anything else but alcohol. Arthur was back to giggling, though now it was punctuated with hiccups and angry shouting at a stain in the bar. Al laughed at first, not too worried about Arthur’s state as Al was able to keep tabs on his actual alcohol intake.

In the midst of his laughter, Arthur grabbed Al’s face between his hands and looked intensely at him. Al was surprised, but before he could say anything, Arthur mumbled out, “You-you’re pretty.” He then hiccuped and began giggling again. Al flushed pink, holding Arthur’s wrists as he pulled the hands away from his face. He frowned and shook his head, telling the bartender that after the pint he had just delivered to not give Arthur any more. He held on to one of Arthur’s hands, as a sort of lifeline between them. Al felt more secure having a physical connection since Arthur had more or less lost his mind. 

“Your buddy here sure can’t hold his liquor,” the bartender commented. Al rolled his eyes.

“Tell me about it. Never taking him out drinking ever again.” Al grabbed Arthur’s back to steady him as he began to tip off the stool. Arthur patted the assisting hand on his arm and mumbled something to the bartender about the pretty lady he was with. Al blushed even harder and looked away, taking his hands off of his drunken friend, deciding that physicality had lost all appeal with how flustered he was getting. 

Suddenly, he was approached by a man only slightly more sober than Arthur, and a lot less giggly. The man leaned on the bar next to Al between him and Arthur and looked him up and down. “So are you a real lady or some tranny in a dress?” he asked. Al frowned, both at the question and the stink of liquor on the man’s breath. 

“Sorry, bucko, but I’d rather keep that to myself,” he said.

“That’s what a tranny would say,” the man insisted. “You a boy or a girl?” Al clenched his fist over his lap, willing himself not to engage in a bar fight unless the man threw the first punch.

“I told you: none of your business. If you really want to know my gender, I would be happy to answer if you asked respectfully.” Behind the man, Arthur seemed to realize through his drunken stupor that there was some tension, and had stopped giggling to squint over at Al and the man. 

The man had leaned in closer to Al, patience seeming to wear thin as his voice rose. “I’m goin’ to ask you once more. You a dude or a chick? You some freak in a dress?”

Al wanted nothing more than to punch the man right in the mouth, just to stop him from ever speaking again. Instead he closed his eyes and blew out a breath to try and calm down. “If you really must know, jackass, I’m neither. Or both. Take your pick. Happy?” The man seemed to only grow angrier. He grabbed Al’s thigh and leaned in to glare at him. 

“You better give me a straight answer before I find out for myself,” he threatened. A lump rose in Al’s throat, but his anger boiled stronger than his fear. He pushed the man off of him and stood up. 

“Touch me again and I’ll make sure that hand doesn’t do anything for a long while. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Al said, turning to the bartender to pay the tab for him and Arthur. While the bartender went to write up a receipt, the man grabbed Al’s shoulder and turned him around. Furious, Al began swinging his arm to punch, but before he made contact he saw Arthur tackle the man to the ground. He did not do much other than lay on top of the man, too drunk to do anything else, but he was slurring out a string of insults that Al did not even know the meaning of. 

Al peeled Arthur off the man, still hiccuping and cursing at the man. The man stood up, shocked, but went back to Al all the same. Al pushed Arthur aside and punched the man hard in the jaw. There was a sharp cracking sound as his knuckles met the bone, and the force sent the man stumbling back a few feet, spitting out blood as he fell back to the ground. Al turned back to the shocked bartender, payed the tab, and all but carried Arthur out of the bar. 

During the drive home, Al called Mattie. He was not going to take Arthur back to his dorm until he knew the lightweight would not be in danger of choking on his own vomit. After three rings, Mattie picked up. “Al? What is it?” he asked. “You never contact me when you’re with Arthur.”

“Hey bro,” Al said, voice tired and drained. “Arthur got shitfaced, so I’m taking him back to our place to make sure he’ll be alright. It might be better for you to stay with Francis tonight just so that there isn’t too much going on while Arthur gets over his hangover. Not to mention Francis would probably just tease him and do something like shine a bright light in his face.”

“As unfair to Francis as that is, I see your point. Let me know how Arthur is tomorrow.”

“Will do bro.” Al hung up and cast a quick look in the backseat to check on Arthur. With how giggly and handsy (he kept trying to grab Al’s face and hands) Arthur was, Al did not trust him to be in the front seat. At the moment he appeared to be very fascinated with his palms and fingers, still hiccuping on occasion. Al sighed and looked back at the road, vowing to never let Arthur step foot in a bar ever again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, use of the t-slur

Arthur woke up the next morning on Al’s couch, Al snoring on a chair next to him in the same clothes he had last seen him wearing. He sat up and bumped Al with his clumsy movements, startling him awake. “Oh finally,” Al said when he saw him. “I was worried you’d be passed out forever.” Arthur rolled his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. “Bad hangover?” Al asked. Arthur began to nod before regretting it, letting out a loud groan.

“My skull feels like someone is trying to mine for gold inside of it,” he said. 

“That’s what happens when you get wasted on half a pint of weak beer. And then order more.” Arthur glared at Al between his fingers. “Want some water, lightweight?” Not even bothering to whine at the jab, Arthur murmured a sound of agreement.

“What even happened last night?” he asked when Al brought him a glass of water. 

Al gave a brief run-down: “Er, well, you got drunk pretty early on, called me pretty, then a guy came over and started harassing me on my gender and for wearing a dress, you tackled him, I punched him.” Arthur looked at him in shock. 

“All that happened in one night? And what happened to the guy?”

“Well I think I might have broken his jaw, but we won’t worry about my amazing fighting skills right now. What we should worry about is how much you reek. Go take a shower. It’ll help with the hangover as well,” Al said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the arm of the chair he had been sleeping in. Arthur rolled his eyes, but drained the glass of water and got up to find the bathroom. “Towels are in the closet next to it!” Al called after him. 

Al waited until Arthur left the room before he dropped his face into his hands. The previous night’s events were still spinning around in his head in a mixture of excitement and dread. He listened for the sound of running water coming from the bathroom before he let tears fall. The man was still screaming at him from his memory; shouts of “that’s what a tranny would say” and “some freak in a dress” struck him in the chest with every syllable. Al let himself sob a couple times, shoulders shaking and stomach heaving. 

He cried until he felt arms wrap around him. His crying was interrupted with a gasp of surprise and he pulled his hands away from his face. Through the blur of tears he saw Arthur looking at him with concern as he rubbed circles into Al’s back. Al tried to speak, but all that came out was a cough that triggered more crying. Arthur hugged him tighter, saying, “That man was a royal cunt to you wasn’t he?” Al managed a laugh.

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would let it get to me this badly,” he admitted.

“It’s alright, Alfred. There is no need to apologize.”

“I just . . . I haven’t been harassed like that since I first came out, but it sucks just as much. I thought I was tough enough to deal with it and being called slurs because I thought I knew it was a fact of life being trans and shit. I thought I knew . . . I thought I wouldn’t let it get to me,” Al admitted, tears streaming down his face. Arthur took Al’s hands in his and squeezed them tight.

“Al, you are plenty tough. I know I don’t remember last night, but from what you said, you stood up for yourself against that shitbag and you broke his jaw. Not everyone is brave enough to do that. It is okay to be upset by the names and awful things he said. They were hurtful and the fact that you were affected like this by them yet still able to stand up to him all the same. In my eyes, that makes you as tough and ready to handle these things as they come.” Al sniffled at Arthur’s words, trying to stop the flow of tears. He nodded, still not looking Arthur in the eye. Arthur squeezed his hands again and Al pulled him into a hug. When he let go, he let out a weak laugh.

“Thanks. Now can we forget I just cried on you and go back to me being Your Hero and cool and stuff?” Al said. 

Rolling his eyes, Arthur shoved Al lightly. “Only if you make me breakfast. This hangover is making me hungry.”

Mattie and Francis arrived a couple hours later, saying they both wanted to check on Arthur’s status. Arthur had responded by rolling his eyes at Francis and thanking Mattie.

“Good to see him back to normal then,” Francis said, smirking at Arthur. “I’ve seen him get drunk before on half a shot of vodka!”

“Why you-” Arthur started but was cut off by Mattie. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t start a fight while you have a hangover? Or at least while you’re at my house?” he said. Arthur ignored Mattie and launched himself at Francis, pulling his hair and shouting insults. Mattie sighed and crossed his arms. “Or, you know, you could ignore me. That’s cool too.”

Al slung an arm around his brother. “Don’t worry about it. Arthur’s a hothead. He’ll burn himself out soon, even faster with how drunk he was last night.” Mattie nodded and turned to Arthur, ignoring the bickering duo next to them for the time being.

“So,” he said, lowering his voice, “you made progress on your plan to ask Arthur out?” Al reddened a bit and shook his head.

“No, not really. I was too worried about him dying from alcohol poisoning to really pose the question,” Al admitted. He noticed Mattie studying his face as he spoke.

“Al, why were you crying? Did something happen last night at the bar? Are you okay?” 

Al nodded quickly, promising to tell Mattie about it later. He was saved from having to discuss more by Arthur suddenly shouting.

“You and your damn hair! You don’t need to go rubbing it in everyone’s faces!” He turned and stomped away from Francis, who looked unaffected. 

“Lovely chatting with you too, Eyebrows,” he practically sang, quickly dodging out of the room before Arthur could say anything else. Mattie rolled his eyes and followed after his boyfriend, mumbling something about the children he and Al had to look after. 

Arthur turned to Al. “He is such a prick,” he whined. Al just shrugged in response, too drained to say anything. Arthur seemed to pick up on the cue and offered to go home with Francis, even if it meant having to drag his roommate away by the ear. Al nodded, mumbling thanks under his breath. He went to collapse back on the couch, exhausted from the ordeals of the morning combined with those he was still dealing with from last night. Mattie sat next to him once he had ushered the Europe Boys out the door. 

“Care to tell me what happened last night that made Alfred the Awesome cry?” he asked. Al shook his head stubbornly. Mattie sighed and tickled at Al’s foot until he looked up and glared at him. “Hey, you’re looking at me now. That’s a good sign,” Mattie joked. Al just groaned and flopped his head back down. “Hey, c’mon Al. You can talk to me, you know you can.”

“I know Mattie. I just already talked to Arthur.” Al sighed and sat up. “Some piece of shit was giving me a hard time last night about my gender, that’s all.”

Mattie rubbed Al’s knee to try and comfort him. “You gave him what he was due, right? If I know anything about my sibling it’s that they stand up for themselves.”

Al smirked. “Yeah, I punched him in the jaw,” he said. Mattie gave him a high five.

“Well there you go. My sibling, dishing out justice where needed. Everyone within your general vicinity last night now knows that you don’t mess with Alfred F. Jones.” Al laughed a bit, shoving Mattie’s shoulder. 

“Al the Hero!” he shouted, falling back onto the couch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: dorks

The next couple of weeks blew by so fast Al could hardly remember them. Vague memories of hanging out with Arthur and making sure his brother remembered to eat and take breaks while working on his Photography project were all he collected. The rest was all a blur of routine waking up, heading to class, coming home.

Then time slowed down for a particularly sunny weekend, the kind perfect for lemonade on the porch and watching joggers run past. Al did just that, enjoying being able to sunbathe all day. He had whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies to munch on while he relaxed, and was thoroughly enjoying his down time. He even managed to convince Mattie to come outside for a while and bask in the lazy warmth with him. 

In his current state of drowsiness-as lounging in the sun always made Al sleepy-Al did not notice much around him unless it was right in front of his face. So the figure nervously walking towards him had to get a bit closer than they would have liked in their current situation just to get his attention. Al blinked and saw that it was none other than Arthur standing awkwardly over him, wearing a suit and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey, Artie,” Al said, stretching his arms over his head. “What brings you here? And why are you wearing a suit? It’s gotta be at least sixty-five degrees out. What’s that in Celsius?”

Arthur appeared to be sporting his usual bright pink flush and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. “I’m not sure about the conversion factor, but I thought it appropriate to dress up for this.” Al quirked an eyebrow and he continued. “Um, I was wondering, Alfred, we’ve known each other for some time and we’ve been spending quite a bit of time together so . . .” Arthur trailed off.

“Well, let’s just get you inside before you melt,” Al insisted, ushering Arthur inside. Arthur looked uncomfortable. Either that or scared. He walked into the house wringing his hands while trying to avoid crushing his flowers. “Want some water? Or lemonade? We’ve also got some Girl Scout cookies if you’re hungry.” Al busied himself getting the drinks, but before he could go to get any food, Arthur grabbed his wrist. Al frowned and looked up at his flustered friend.

Arthur had a determined look in his eye, but his hands shook uneasily. “Al, I wanted to say-ask really, if . . . if you . . .” Arthur voice caught in his throat in a mess of nerves. He dropped Al’s wrist and looked down. 

“C’mon Artie, spit it out,” Al said, curious as to what was eating away at his friend. Arthur took a deep breath and groaned, dropping his head into his hands. Al sighed, pushing himself of the counter he was leaning on. Arthur grabbed the glass of lemonade in front of him, downed it in one gulp, and sat sullenly. Al put his arm over Arthur’s shoulders in an effort to comfort him. “It’s okay if it’s hard to say. I get that. But while you work on the syllables, I’ve got a question of my own for you. It’s nice that you’re dressed up, come to think of it. I had a whole song and dance planned out but it’ll be easier to just ask now.” Al snapped his mouth shut when he saw Arthur staring at him expectantly. “Oh, sorry. I was rambling. I do that when I get nervous. So anyways . . . Would you like to go out sometime?”

Arthur’s jaw dropped open. Al stopped leaning on Arthur, confused. “Bro I’m not going to lie, I have not idea what that means. Is that good shock or bad shock?” He hoped he was appearing calm and collected on the outside, but internally he was two seconds away from an atomic bomb kind of panic. 

“Would you go on a date with me?” Arthur suddenly blurted out. Al stared at him in shock, feeling the blood quickly rush to his cheeks as Arthur hurriedly shoved the bouquet of flowers towards him.

Al numbly took hold of the bouquet and stared down at it in shock. “I-what?” he asked. He could feel his heart hammer and leap into his throat all at once. 

“That-that was what I was going to ask you. I wasn’t expecting you to say yes, much less ask me out yourself.”

“You idiot.” Al said, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. I just wasn’t sure . . . how to go about it.” Al felt a need to keep his real crisis with asking Arthur out to himself for now. Instead, he wrapped Arthur in a hug, feeling Arthur’s shoulders relax in his arms as he leaned into the hug.

“That’s a relief,” Arthur said. Al laughed, giving Arthur a squeeze before releasing him. Arthur was beaming and blushing, utter joy shining through his features. Al laughed again and tugged at the sleeves of Arthur’s suit jacket. 

“Are you going to wear this?” he asked. Arthur’s grin turned into a confused frown. “You’ll combust if you wear this on a date right now,” Al explained. 

“Wait, are you suggesting that we leave for a date immediately?” Arthur asked. 

“Er, well, yeah sort of. I haven’t been in the dating scene for a while, so I can’t remember exactly how it works. Why, what were you planning?”

“Nothing, quite honestly. I had to make sure you said yes first,” Arthur admitted. Al laughed and rolled his eyes. 

“Dude, you always need something planned, just in case they say yes. It’s a handy life skill called ‘being prepared’,” Al teased. He gave Arthur a playful nudge on the shoulder when he stuck his tongue out. “But really, dude, did you have anything in mind?” 

Arthur shrugged, saying, “I mean, we could go anywhere, but there was a small area of town I wanted to show you.”

“Any bars?”

“No, why?”

 

“No reason. Sounds good. What time?” They stood at the counter the rest of the afternoon, making plans over lemonade and Girl Scout cookies, completely oblivious to Al’s roommate silently creeping in and spying on them. When the sun started to sink in the sky, and Al and Arthur had run out of excuses to keep talking, Al cleaned up the glasses and crumbs and led Arthur out the door. 

“So, see you Wednesday?” he asked. Arthur nodded, clearly trying and failing to hold back a beam. 

“Wednesday,” Arthur confirmed. Al slowly closed the door, resisting the urge to lean back against it and soak in what had happened. The last thing he needed was to turn his life into a teenage romance novel. Despite that, he could not help the stupid grin that came to his face. He began walking back to the kitchen, feeling as though he was floating, when he saw his brother waiting for him and was immediately sucked down from the cloud he was on back to planet Earth. 

Mattie was standing in front of him, appearing innocent in his sweats, t-shirt, and lack of binder, but he was grinning from ear to ear and had his arms crossed proudly in front of his chest. Al could only imagine he had heard the conversation between him and Arthur, and that Mattie was here to tease him. He set his feet shoulder length apart and held his arms up tensely, as if they were about to wrestle instead of talk. 

Mattie ran over to Al and tackled him with a hug,causing them both to fall to the ground. “I knew you two would go out!” he said. Al, still getting over some initial shock, laughed with his brother. 

“Thanks, bro. Now would you mind getting off of me?” Mattie stood up and offered his hand down to Al to help him up. “Right, so I guess you were eavesdropping the entire time?”

“Mm, only for most of it. I know you two are going out on Wednesday and that Arthur’s picking you up from class, and that you two are both total nerds that should have gone out weeks ago,” Mattie said. “Francis and I have been trying to set you guys up forever and you only just now figured it out, goodness me.”

“Wait, are you saying every time Francis came over and left Arthur here was you guys trying to set us up?” Al asked. Mattie nodded. 

“Um, duh. I’ve never gone out with Francis that many times in a week. Not that I’m complaining about it.” Al rolled his eyes.

“Whatever bro. I just hope the date goes well. I’m still not sure how Arthur will work out with my whole genderfluid thing. Maybe he’s the type to be into nonbinary people? I don’t know, I just hope he doesn’t only like me as a guy.” Mattie nodded in understanding.

“Well, he asked you out, didn’t he? I’d say that means you’ve got a pretty good chance of him being the type to make exceptions.” He nudged Al in the shoulder. “Now let’s go get some dinner. Chinese takeout sound good to you?” Al smiled.

“You know it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they asked each other out. It only took seven chapters . . .


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, good news! I have officially finished writing the entire story, so now I can give regular updates. Expect them about once a week.

Sunday morning, Al was already awake by six AM. In fact, he had not slept the night before at all. He had been too excited and anxious to go to sleep, despite the date being on Wednesday. Al figured it was best to lose a night of sleep early on so that he would not stay up the night before the date. So, Al stayed up watching videos, doing homework he had neglected (though he figured he might want to review it since he had been pretty exhausted and was not thinking super clearly when he did it), and making himself snacks as quietly as possible as not to wake Mattie. 

Mattie did get a full night’s sleep, and had not been disturbed by Al’s late trips to the kitchen, but still had to face the grouch and gloom that was his sibling the next morning. Al was not in a good mood after skipping out on sleep, and was already at the table when Mattie entered the kitchen, moodily eating cereal. Mattie spotted the dark shadows under his eyes and Al’s hunched posture and figured he had done something stupid again.

“You know,” he said, pulling out food to make his own breakfast, “staying up all night really puts a damper on your mood. Best not do that before the date so you don’t scare Arthur off.” Al, too exhausted to give a witty retort, rolled his eyes and went back to his cereal. “Wow. You must be really tired if you’re not even going to try and come up with something,” Mattie noted.

The two ate in silence, Al tired and Mattie not wanting to provoke an actual fight. Eventually, Mattie finished eating and started to head out the door. “I’ve got a couple classes this morning, so don’t wait up for me if you manage to do anything today,” he told Al. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.” Al gave a grunt in reply, and Mattie left.

Monday afternoon, Al was in a much better mood. Mattie found him eating cold leftovers of Chinese takeout, humming along to a Broadway musical soundtrack in the background. When he checked back on his sibling a few hours later, Mattie saw Al lying on the couch, sighing dramatically. Mattie peeked into the fridge and saw it half empty, meaning Al ate it all. Mattie shook his head, knowing that Al’s outrageous appetite went into overdrive when he was bored. Or exercising.

“Did you take a go on the elliptical?” Mattie asked. Al nodded. 

“Only for like, an hour and a half. I got hungry. But now all the good food is gone and I’m bored,” Al said. Mattie rolled his eyes, hauling Al off the couch and muttering about having to go grocery shopping again. He insisted Al was coming with him, just for the sake of getting him out of the house so he did not mope around in a loop between the pantry and refrigerator. Al grumbled at first, but followed and threw random things in the cart that Mattie had to filter through before checkout. 

Tuesday had Al bouncing off the walls with nervous energy. He tried to expel some by exercising, staying at the gym for half the day running, lifting, swimming, and joining random games of basketball. After he had exhausted himself, he found his leg still bouncing as his thoughts ran wild with images of Arthur and where they might go, what he should wear, if Arthur was going to kiss him or not. 

_Do I want Arthur to kiss me?_ Al thought. He frowned, unsure of himself and his own feelings. He got lost in his own brain long enough for one of the guys he was playing basketball with to sit next to him without him noticing. 

“I don’t know how you manage to have enough energy to bounce your leg after all that working out you just did,” the guys said. “You’ve been here almost all day haven’t you?” Al nodded.

“How’d you know?” he asked.

“I’m good friends with the lady that checks people in. She said you’ve been here practically since the doors opened.”

“Oh. Yeah, well, I’m just nervous about something tomorrow. I came here to try and work off the nerves, but I guess to no avail. Gah, I don’t know, I guess I shouldn’t be psyching myself out so much,” Al explained. 

“What’s going on tomorrow?” the guy asked.

“I’ve got a date. I haven’t been on one in a while, and I really like this person so I don’t want to screw it up.” The guy laughed good-naturedly. 

“She must be pretty good looking for you to be this nervous.”

“Um, yeah, he is attractive,” Al said, trying to gauge the guy’s reaction. He looked only mildly surprised.

“Oh, sorry man. Didn’t realize you’re gay.”

Al took a moment to cringe at the wording, harmless as it was. “Er, well, I’m not exactly gay, I think. I mean, especially since I’m not feeling much like a guy today. I’ve been in a weird gray area, but it’s not very definite.” 

The guy laughed again. “You’ve lost me. Whatever you are or are into, best of luck to you and your man.” Al smiled, appreciating how easy the guy was to talk to. “See you next week for more b-ball?” the guy asked. Al nodded.

“Sure, why not?” The two exchanged a fist bump and Al left the gym, feeling much better than he had been.

At home, however, was a different story. Al could not find a decent outfit to wear. It was either too casual, too formal, too warm, et cetera. He briefly considered sending Arthur a text to ask how casual the date actually would be, but did not want to ask Arthur about it since it was supposed to be new. “Mattie!” he called across the house. “What did you wear on your first date with Francis?” 

Mattie’s soft voice was heard calling back, “That old yellow dress that I wore to like every event I went to, remember?” Al cursed under his breath, remembering that pre-t Mattie never shared a similar size with Al. Mattie came into Al’s room, wondering what was going on. He saw Al standing in the midst of a scattered pile of clothes, staring at them in distress.

“Need an outfit for tomorrow?” he asked. Al nodded vigorously. Mattie sighed, seeing how nervous his sibling was. “Al, have you eaten anything today?” Al frowned, thinking back through the day. His stomach grumbled loudly.

“. . . No,” Al admitted. 

“Go eat and come back. We’ll figure something out after you’ve gotten your daily consumption of half the house.” Al obliged, quickly returning with a breakfast burrito in hand, munching away as he stared at the clothing on the floor. 

“Any bright ideas?” he asked Mattie between bites. His brother picked his way around the room, rearranging the clothing piles and choosing a few pieces here and there. He came back to Al and dropped his haul in front of him. Al frowned as he finished the burrito, hoping Mattie would start arranging outfits from the clothing since Al was at a total loss of what to wear. Luckily, Mattie began holding up various ensembles in front of Al’s chest, musing to himself about each one. Eventually, Al became lost in thought and lost track of time while his brother continued to pick and choose different shirts, pants, dresses, and skirts. 

Mattie threw an outfit at Al’s face, forcing Al back into reality. “That one. Not too casual, not to dressed up. And it fits you well.” Al looked at his old yellow sweater vest and green tie, paired with some jeans. 

“Isn’t this the outfit I wore to that presentation for class?” Mattie nodded. “You’re sending me on a date dressed like I’m doing a presentation?” Mattie rolled his eyes. 

“No, you wore slacks to the presentation. Jeans make it more casual. And as long as you manage to find a white dress shirt in this dump of clothes, it’ll look great,” he argued. Then he frowned and sifted through Al’s clothes some more. He came back up again with a pleated skirt in hand. “Here. In case this is too masculine tomorrow. The skirt will look good as well.” Al nodded, some of his nerves untwisting slightly, though new ones coiled in their place. 

The new nerves twisted tighter with each passing thought of, _What if Arthur doesn’t like me that way?_ Al could not help but begin to stress over date tomorrow. If he was a boy, it would be easy. Arthur liked boys. Al was nervous that he would be a girl, or neutral or somewhere in between. Al spent a lot of his fluctuation hovering in a gray area of gender, and he did not know if Arthur would like that. He tried to mentally shrug off all the worry before Mattie saw what was going on behind his eyes. 

“Thanks, Mattie-bro,” he said. Suddenly, his stomach growled. Al grinned and began heading to the kitchen again. “Now to eat half my weight,” he called over his shoulder. 

Al woke up with a gnawing feeling in his gut. For a second he thought it was panic and sudden anxiety, but quickly realized it was intense hunger from not eating much the day before. He stood up and stretched, noting where his internal gender dial was set. Fortunately, he was not too female today. But he was not entirely male either. Al washed his face as he tried to figure out what was going on. His day became easier once he had some sort of set idea of where he had settled in the gendersphere. _Let's see . . . kinda boyish? Kinda not? More boy than girl. Part boy, part nothing._ , Al thought. He made an attempt to flatten his obnoxious cowlick, but with no such luck. He shrugged on the outfit Mattie had picked out for him, feeling masculine enough to skip the skirt and wear jeans. 

Arthur said he would pick Al up at before noon, giving Al enough time to (a) eat breakfast (b) brush his teeth and (c) have another small crisis about whether or not his gender would play a large determining factor in this relationship. Something told him that if he was freaking out about it so much than he should just talk to Arthur about it so that they would have an understanding, but Al thought that was also too stress-inducing and that internally freaking out about it was the preferable option right now. 

The doorbell ringing snapped Al out of his small panic attack. He righted himself so he would not appear like he had just been freaking out before answering the door. A smiling, blushing Arthur was waiting with a brand new bouquet. “Hello, Alfred,” he said breathlessly, as though only just exhaling. Al felt like melting for a second with that one phrase as he forgot his fears of Arthur disliking his gender.

“Hey,” Al said. “So, where’re we headed?” Instead of replying, Arthur just smirked and took Al’s hand, pulling him toward the car. 

"Buckle up,” Arthur said. “I think you’ll like it.” Al strapped himself in, wondering what in the world he was in for.

Al used to think that he had seen all of the college town near campus, but Arthur quickly proved him wrong. Somehow he led them to a whole new part of town that Al had never even known existed. It was mostly a small strip mall that housed a couple clothing outlets, a few eateries, and a vintage ice cream parlor. A park lay behind it,, full of walking paths and greenery and even a jungle gym for kids. Al mentioned that he had never seen this place before, earning a small smile from Arthur. 

“That’s what I was hoping for,” he said. Al could not help but smile back, feeling his remaining nerves settle out as excitement took their place. Arthur parked and pulled out a blanket and picnic basket. An honest-to-God old school picnic basket. Al was impressed.

“A picnic? Now that’s what I call first date material,” he said. Arthur flushed slightly, allowing Al to give himself a little mental high-five for fulfilling the daily quota of Arthur turning red. Arthur cleared his throat and told Al to follow him. They walked around the strip mall to a grassy hill behind it. Arthur lay the blanket out under a tree at the top of the hill, setting a picturesque scene. He sat and motioned for Al to do the same. 

Arthur began arranging food from the basket out on the blanket, along with two plates and a couple of water bottles. Al leaned back against the tree and watched. “Did you make all this food?” he asked, looking at the tupperware full of sandwiches, fruit, baked goods, and a potato salad. Arthur frowned, looking embarrassed. 

“Er, no,” he admitted. “Francis wouldn’t let me and insisted on putting the basket together himself. I had to practically wrestle him to prevent him from adding a bottle of champagne.” Al let out a hearty laugh, which seemed to help Arthur relax a bit. He went back to putting food out, this time distributing some to each plate with stiff, mechanical movements. 

Al watched as Arthur moved from food container to plate, doing so deliberately. It was almost like watching clockwork. It was driving Al crazy to see his date act so robotic, so he grabbed Arthur’s hands and pulled them away from the food. Arthur frowned, confused. “Aw, c’mon,” Al said. “Don’t make that face at me. We’re on a date, remember?” That got Arthur to smirk and flush a bit. “Now seriously dude, you're stiff as a board. What’re you nervous or something?”

Arthur bit his lip and did not meet Al’s eyes for a second. “Well, of course I am,” he admitted. “I haven’t been on a date in a while and now I’m here with you and you’re, well. . . marvelous.” This time it was Al’s turn to blush. He sat forward on his knees and placed a small kiss on Arthur’s forehead. 

“Then I’m going to have to make sure you believe the same about yourself. Now relax, for goodness’ sake. I’ll deal with the food. Now tell me, what are you’re interesting childhood stories? Got any siblings? And how in the world did you end up rooming with Francis?”

Arthur seemed to visibly relax as Al took over control. Al was just glad he was able to help Arthur unwind a bit. They ate and made casual conversation, realizing that during their friendship they never shared funny stories or interests, as if saving them for this moment. As if they knew they would eventually go on a date together. Al mentally snorted at the idea and decided to instead focus on Arthur’s recount of his first visit to a tattoo parlor (in which he apparently did get a tattoo but refused to show it to Al).

After they decided that they had each eaten their fill, Al and Arthur leaned back against the tree together and looked out at the grassy land behind the strip mall. They laid their hands next to each other, pinkies brushing lightly, but both too nervous to actually take the other’s hand. Al could feel his heart hammer each time he even entertained the idea of intertwining his fingers with Arthur’s, yet he craved a more intimate point of contact. He settled for resting his hand lightly on Arthur’s hand. His heart leaped into his throat, face growing hot. Arthur let out a small content sigh in response. 

Then Arthur stood up, breaking the contact. “Sorry to interrupt, but we should pack up,” he said, gesturing to the empty plastic containers and dirty plates. “Also, I promised your brother I would bring you back by a certain hour.” Al checked his watch, seeing it had only been a couple of hours. 

“You did? Mattie is my keeper now?” Al retorted. Arthur smirked.

“Guess so. Let’s clean up and get you home before we have to face his soft-voiced rage,” he joked. Al rolled his eyes and began putting the picnic basket’s contents away. During the ride home, he watched the profile of Arthur’s face, appreciating the angles and bumps, watching how the sun hit his hair and eyes, and thought that if this whole dating thing went well, then he was darn lucky.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I couldn't help myself. I need to post more than once a week.

The dating thing was going seriously well. Al felt constantly elated. He and Arthur went out once a week, and always to a new spot. Their second date was to an aquarium Al wanted to show Arthur. They looked at octopi, exotic fish, sharks, and starfish. Arthur got his hand shocked at the tank with the electric eel, which offered a handprint that delivered a static shock that simulated the pain of the shock of the eel. Al had to hold back his laughter at the look on Arthur’s face when he got shocked, and had to pull Arthur away from the tank before he leased a string of insults on the eel in front of a group of small children.

The third date involved less electricity and more yelling. The couple decided to go to a nearby amusement park, and consequently went on every roller coaster and spinny ride they could find. Al was dared more than once to eat the greasy food offered by the vendors at the park before going on the fastest rides, and succeeded in not hurling each time. Arthur, on the other hand, avoided eating until they had exhausted each ride. He then ate as much food as he could find, his adrenaline pumping his metabolism. 

The fourth date took them to a go cart track per Al’s decision. They ended up among a group of thirteen year old kids and tried to separate themselves as quickly as possible, as to avoid middle school flashbacks. When they did get a chance to get on the track, they were both in full competition mode. Al had even brought a pair of flight goggles to keep his glasses from flying off. Arthur briefly considered bumping into Al a couple of times in order to throw him off track, but decided against it, mainly because these were not bumper cars and because he did not want to get in trouble with who ran the track. Arthur ended up winning, due to Al’s issue with oversteering. 

The most recent date was a late-night stargazing one. Al brought two blankets-one to lay on and one in case they got cold-and Arthur drove to a spot where the sky was clear. They laid on the ground together, shoulders touching, pointing out the few constellations they actually knew. Eventually their words dwindled out and they stared at the night sky, alight with pinpricks of white. 

Al always thought that there was something about the dark sky and the millions of stars that made people have deeper conversations. Night was a time that people share more, a time when topics that were too severe for daytime happened. He and Arthur, he decided, needed to have one of those conversations.

“Hey Artie?” he asked quietly, not looking away from the sky. “Do you like me?”

His question earned a snort from Arthur. “No, I loathe you,” Arthur retorted. “That’s why I was such a nervous wreck when I asked you out.” Al rolled his eyes. 

“I know that, idiot. I mean, are you actually attracted to me? Like, could you see yourself with me long term or is this like a fling?” Al watched as Arthur pushed himself up on his elbows to look him in the eyes.

“Alfred, what are you implying?”

Al stretched his arms up and folded them behind his head. He closed his eyes so he would not have to look at Arthur, and answered, “Well, how do you see me? As a guy? As a nonbinary exception? A girl that somehow managed to catch your eye?”

“I’m confused,” Arthur admitted. “I see you as you. Sometimes that you is a boy, sometimes a girl, and sometimes that you is hovering in who-knows-where on this gender spectrum thing.”

“Well I know that,” Al said, mildly defensive. “What I’m trying to say is, do you like me more a guy? Do you only like me as a guy?” There were a few seconds of silence, and Al risked opening an eye to sneak a look at Arthur. He looked shocked, offended even.

“Alfred, I’m not going to lie, I’m a gay man who likes men. But something about you. . .you don’t fit that defining box. I want to date you when you’re a guy, that’s a given. And I want to date you when you’re neutral, without gender, more feminine, more masculine, and when you’re a girl.” Arthur took a deep breath, like he was calming something. Al was not sure if that “something” was nervousness or anger. “Alfred F. Jones, I like _you_ , boy or not.”

Al toyed with the edge of the blanket. “Okay,” he said quietly, still unsure of himself. “Sorry, I was just nervous. If you only like the guy side of me, then I was afraid you’d only like me some of the time and . . . and . . . “ Al trailed off, throat beginning to close up and eyes stinging. Arthur pulled Al up to give him a comforting hug. 

“I can promise you that even though girls are of no interest to me, you are no matter how you’re feeling. Do you believe me?”

Al pulled back to look at Arthur. He gave a small smile and nodded. A huge wave of relief washed over him, diminishing (most of) the nerves regarding his gender he had felt when starting this relationship. 

“So you won’t care if I show up to our next date at a gay bar as your girlfriend?” he asked. 

“Not at all. Just wear a nice dress,” Arthur replied with a wink. Al laughed, glad they were back to joking. 

“One more question,” he said, leaning in again towards Arthur. 

“Yes?” Arthur asked, eyes flicking briefly from Al’s eyes to his lips. His tongue ran across his lips. 

“Don’t you think our first kiss a little overdue?” 

Arthur responded by carefully closing the gap between them, connecting them at the mouth. It was not a make out. It was only a quick, simple kiss that made the blood rush to Al’s cheeks and his heart climb out of his chest. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he managed to say, “I guess you agree, huh?” Arthur laughed and kissed Al again, then laid back down to look at the stars. 

“We should have kissed two weeks after we met, in all honesty. The tension was incredible.” As Al returned to his position on the ground next to Arthur, he thought two things: 1) kissing Arthur was a good decision, and that he agrees should have happened sooner and 2) this small romance with Arthur had blossomed into something wonderful.


	10. Chapter 10

Ever since he was young, Al had loved movies. He loved film of all kinds-every genre, every language (given he had access to subtitles), every era. He had a collection of his favorites that had been growing since he started it back at age thirteen. Al’s stash ranged from black-and-white silent films with Charlie Chaplin to breath-taking epics to the terrifying classics _American Psycho_ and _Alien._

Arthur, however, had never had so much of an interest in movies. Not like Al did, anyways. He had been alarmed when he saw the tall, nearly full bookshelf of only DVD and VHS cases. Al was alarmed when his boyfriend informed him that he had only seen a handful of the movies within the collection. He took a stack of films and brought them and Arthur to the kitchen, insisting that they were going to have a talk. 

“This,” he said, holding up a film, “is _Dirty Dancing._ And right here is _Footloose_. Probably seventy-five percent of every teenager’s dance moves come from these movies.”

“Never heard of them,” Arthur said. Al sighed, placing his hand gently on Arthur’s knee. 

“I know sweetie,” he replied. “That’s why we’re having this talk. Now let’s take a look at _Fight Club_. Greatest monologues, one of the most mind-bending plots. Makes most kids want to join a fight club.”

“What’s a fight club?” 

“We don’t talk about fight club.”

During the seminar, Mattie entered the kitchen. He took one look at the stack of DVDs and said, “Movie talk?” Al nodded, completely serious. Mattie let out a long whistle and nodded to Arthur, as if he had been through the exact same thing before and was offering sympathy. Meanwhile, Al had moved on to his selection of Tarantino movies. 

After his lengthy crash course in The Greatest Movies Known to Man according to Alfred, Arthur had taken to reorganizing Al’s collection. He would arrange them by alphabetical order, by rating, by genre, by VHS and DVD, and by year made. Al would talk about each film in turn as Arthur grouped, and eventually he formed his own list of movies he wanted to watch out of the collection, despite Al insisted that seeing all of them was mandatory.

The list included the first few movies Al had told him about, a few thrillers, and a lot of epics. Al was more than happy to have the next few dates be movie marathons at home and set the date for the first one for that Friday.

Arthur loved _Dirty Dancing_. He was entranced by the choreography and music, and the romance seemed to capture him immediately. He was a bit more disdainful towards _Footloose_ , as he thought the idea of dancing being illegal to be absurd. However, Al picked up on Arthur’s interest in Kevin Bacon, which seemed to gain the movie some points. 

_Fight Club_ baffled Arthur and had him quoting it for the next week. Al told Francis in private that Arthur was under no circumstances allowed to go somewhere sketchy or bar-esque in fear that Arthur might actually engage in a fight. Mattie agreed to be Francis’s conscience in case the temptation to see Arthur try and take someone on was too great. 

Arthur quickly fell in love with Mel Gibson’s works. His favorite movie genre above all had to be the epics, and he asked Al if he had any more like _Braveheart_ and _Mad Max_. He soon exhausted every epic film Al owned, and once he had Al decided to start picking out what movie to watch next that had not been on Arthur’s list. He and Arthur had been watching a lot of movies with complex plots and righteous characters. He thought a rom-com was in order. 

When Arthur came over that night, he found the living room full of throw pillows, blankets, and strategically placed scented candles. Al, however, was nowhere in sight. Arthur looked at the movie laid out on the DVD player and smirked. Clearly Al had some sort of idea how he wanted this night to go. In the meantime, Arthur made himself comfortable on the small couch and waited for Al. 

He came into the room a short while later, holding a bag of microwave popcorn and a bag of individually wrapped chocolates. He beamed at Arthur and put the food down to scoop Arthur up into a hug and kiss him. Arthur smiled when the kiss was broken and looked up at Al. “So what’s with all this?” he asked, nodding to the candles. Al rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly.

“Uh, I wanted a nice romantic evening, right? So I set the mood and picked out one of my favorite romantic comedies.” Arthur kissed him again and pulled him down onto the couch.

“Let’s watch then. _Boy Meets Girl_ , was it?” Arthur said. Al smiled and nodded, popping the movie into the player and settling back on the couch. He wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders and pulled him onto his chest, settling them both into their usual cozy movie-watching position. Arthur gave a small contented sigh as he relaxed, and Al felt his heart swell just a bit. 

About halfway through the movie, Arthur shifted position. He sat up and leaned into Al, gently bringing their lips together. Al melted into the kiss. He and Arthur often made out during movies they watched together, so Al was more than happy to oblige. _Though,_ Al thought after a few minutes, _it doesn’t normally last this long._ He shrugged the thought off, giving himself over to the kiss even more. 

They soon rolled over, Al on top of Arthur. Al felt heat rush through his body and his heart sped up with nervous excitement. He had never been kissed like this and never thought he would relish it this much. He had one hand cupping Arthur’s cheek and another tightly bunched in Arthur’s shirt, keeping him close. His heart picked up pace when he felt Arthur’s hand creep under his shirt and rest against the bare skin of his stomach. Al tried not to think about the hand there, hoping that Arthur did not plan to move much farther than his torso area. Arthur’s mouth moved from Al’s lips to his jaw, and then down to his neck. Al gasped slightly, stomach coiling unpleasantly. Arthur began to leave marks on Al’s neck and collarbone. His hand moved from under Al’s shirt to under the waistband of Al’s sweatpants. Al pulled away as Arthur pressed his fingers into Al’s hipbone. 

“Um, A-Arthur,” Al started, quietly and nervously, “what are you doing?” He felt himself begin to shake a bit, and tried to control the anxiety wave that was beginning to crash over him. 

Arthur had a determined look set in his dilated eyes, but that quickly softened to confusion at Al’s question. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Is this not what you want?”

“No!” Al shouted without realizing. He quickly jumped back from Arthur, ripping the hand from his pants, and sat on the other end of the couch. “I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to shout, I just . . .”

“What, Alfred? I don’t understand. You set up a wonderful night with everything needed for a first time or whatever. Mattie’s not even home. He was at my dorm when I left. So what is the problem? You’re the one who said that movies are good background noise for doing ‘other things’,” Arthur retorted. Al drew back from him, feeling tears streak down his face from the overwhelming nervous panic he was in.

“This isn’t what I meant!” Al yelled. “I just meant, like, kissing and cuddling and stuff. Not sex. Never sex.” He could not control the shaking anymore, and soon his whole body was in tremors. “I-I’m sorry if you think I led you on, but I n-never meant for this,” he said between sobs. Arthur carefully crossed the distance between the two of them and gently placed his hand on Al’s arm. 

“Sh-h, it’s okay Alfred. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. I was confused is all. I’m sorry I did something that made you uncomfortable.” Al nodded to show that he understood, but did not trust himself to speak. “May I still hug you? You look in need of some comfort from a good boyfriend.” Al nodded again, and Arthur wrapped his arms around Al’s hunched shoulders. He rocked them back and forth a little, rubbing circles into Al’s back as he cried quietly. The movie continued to play, but neither of them payed it any attention. 

Arthur pulled away from the hug to look Al in the eyes. He carefully removed Al’s glasses and wiped away the remaining tears on his cheeks. Al offered a weak smile, which Arthur returned. “There we are, that’s the Alfred I know and love,” he said. “Listen, Alfred, I really am sorry for giving you such a scare. I misinterpreted your signals, and I should have asked you before making any sort of moves that I wasn’t sure you were comfortable with. Do you forgive me?” Al nodded, allowing Arthur to blow out a sigh of relief.

“I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it,” Al said. “I just . . . freak out in these situations. I’ve never liked them. Always been much more of a romantic I guess.” 

“Well that’s fine by me,” Arthur replied. He glanced at the movie, which had reached its final scene and was wrapping up the plot that he had missed most of. “The film looks to be about finished. Do you want to just sit here in companionable silence?” he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Al cracked a small grin and pulled Arthur by the waist into another entanglement of arms that they called cuddling. “Sounds fine to me,” he said, resting his head on top of Arthur’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whY DO I DO THESE THINGS


	11. Chapter 11

Mattie made Al talk about the last date night, just like Al expected.. Knowing that he was not going to get away with being vague, Al told Mattie as much as he could bear. He recounted the gentle way the night started out, and how it quickly turned into a situation that he did not want to be in. 

“Sounds like a wild time,” Mattie said. Al groaned. 

“Yeah, well, everything is fine now. I told him I was not comfortable with it, and he backed off. He apologized, so it’s all done and over. Nothing else to say about it.” Mattie nodded, showing his support. 

“No, yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. The last time this happened you were so shaken up you wouldn’t let anyone touch you and you hardly ate. I didn’t want a repeat of that, especially with how well things have been going with Arthur for you,” Mattie said. Al sighed, feeling dejected. He agreed with Mattie that a repeat of his last response to this situation would not be favorable. At the same time, though, he wanted to avoid human interaction for a while, if just to recharge. He told Mattie this, who agreed as long as Al followed his conditions. “You need to eat three meals a day still, at normal Al quantity. And if Arthur tries to contact you, then respond to him. You don’t want him to worry after you said that everything was fine.”

“Alright, bro. I promise. I’m just going to go sleep right now. I’m feeling a little drained,” Al told Mattie. He headed to his room and collapsed instantly, barely remembering to take his glasses off before passing out. 

He woke up a couple hours later to the sound of his phone ringing. Too tired to try and squint to make out the name without his glasses, Al answered the phone. “Hello?” he asked. “Who is this?”

“Who is this?” came the angry voice. “Who is this? How could you ask that after ignoring six texts and two phone calls? It’s your _boyfriend,_ Alfred, and I want a good answer considering how worried sick I’ve been about you.” 

_Oh, it’s Arthur_ , Al thought, mind still groggy with sleep. “Hey, Artie. How’re you?”

“Cut the small talk, Alfred. Where have you been?” 

“Sorry, I fell asleep. I wasn’t ignoring you. I just needed a nap.” He could practically hear Arthur go from bristling mad to a much softer, calmer state. 

“Well that’s good. I was about to ask Mattie to phone the police if he hadn’t seen you,” he said. Al laughed, and it felt good to feel like he was back in the groove of things already. “Do you have any plans today?” Arthur asked. 

A cold shiver ran down Al’s spine as nerves hit him. “Er, laying in bed?” he replied, phrasing it like a question. 

“C’mon Alfred, let’s go on an adventure today,” Arthur said, trying to coax him into going out. 

“Sorry Artie, but I can’t today. I’m dead exhausted from last night.” There was silence over the phone at Al’s mention of the date. “I just want to take a couple days to recharge. That okay?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Take your time. Can I still call you while you’re at it?” came Arthur’s reply. Al let out a silent sigh of relief. 

“Of course! I would like that.” Al beamed, despite knowing Arthur could not see him. He felt that the message would get across either way.

Arthur did not call again that day. Al was too dazed to notice. He spent the entire day laying on his bed, lost in thought. He had reached a place in between the waking world and his subconscious, and everything felt like an out-of-body experience. When he walked, ate, did anything it felt as though he were on auto pilot. His mind was somewhere else entirely. 

Most of the time that he was in this state, Al spent reflecting about Arthur and what had happened that night. He knew two things: 1) Arthur did not do anything against Al’s outright wishes. When Al said no and told him to stop, Arthur stopped. 2) He had snapped at Arthur without reason. Arthur had been put into a vulnerable position and Al had freaked at him. 

Al had assembled this information by constantly replaying the scene in his head, looking for anything that might be a red flag for the future. He only saw the flag on himself, and knew that was not fair to Arthur. He wanted to right the situation. He needed to talk to Arthur. Al needed more time to think things through and recollect himself. He made a promise to himself that as soon as he managed to float back to reality, he would talk to Arthur and apologize. He owed him as much. 

Arthur sent a goodnight text. Al managed to settle back into his own body long enough to answer. 

He skipped class the next day, texting a friend to email him the notes and assignment. He had managed to return his mind to its proper place in his head, and it seemed like it was going to stay there. Al laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he thought about calling Arthur. He had made it sound like he would need a long time to isolate himself, but one day was enough right now. He did not want to disconnect before he had a chance to talk to Arthur. They needed to talk, preferably in person. Al needed him here. 

Al grabbed his phone from the spot on the bed it had been and dialed Arthur’s number. It went straight to voicemail. A brief thought reminded that Arthur had class and had probably turned his phone off for the lecture. Al sighed and left a message. 

“Uh, hey babe. Just wanted to check in. Um, so I’ve been thinking. We need to talk. Nothing’s wrong! Really. We just have some stuff to sort out y’know? So, just call me back when you can, or just show up here whenever. I’m free all day. Alright, bye.” He hung up, heart beating a little faster than necessary. He hoped Arthur would not freak out from the “we need to talk” line. 

Al went through his own voicemail, wondering if he missed anyone trying to contact him during his daze yesterday. There was a single message from Arthur. The time stamp showed that it was sent while Al was asleep last night. Al frowned and played the message, listening to Arthur’s sleep-deprived voice. 

_“Hello Alfred. I don’t think you’ll be awake when I send this, seeing as it’s well past midnight. I know I haven’t called all day. I don’t know if you know that . . . you seemed a bit far away when we talked this morning. I hope you’re alright._

_“I’m sorry about what I did during our date. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just . . . you’re amazing Alfred. Everything about you draws me in. We haven’t even been together that long, but this is the best relationship I’ve been in for a while. I want you to know that. I also want you to know-no, I think I need you to know-that I love you._

_“I can’t see your reaction. I can’t predict it either. You’re a bit of an anomaly to me. I just hope that you’re happy. I love you. I love so much about you, and that attraction made it hard to control what I was doing. Thank you for stopping me. Take as long as you need to get yourself back together. I’ll be here when you need me.”_

Al dropped the phone. His heart was hammering and his hands were shaking. The tinny voice of the answering machine was telling him to dial for more options, but he ignored it. He was too focussed on the fact that his boyfriend just admitted to being in love with him. Al drew in a breath, making sure he still knew how after the shock. Arthur _loved_ him. Despite all of Al’s concerns and all of Al’s instability with attraction, Arthur loved him. His face split in a grin. He knew how he felt about Arthur, and it felt good to have at least one of them say it. 

His phone beeped, startling him out of his overjoyed shock. There was a text from Arthur on the screen, agreeing to meet as soon as he was done with morning classes. 

Mattie was the one that let Arthur in the house. Al was distracted as he finished making lunch: grilled cheese and tomato soup for him, fried egg sandwich for Mattie. He heard Arthur walk in and exchange a few words with Mattie. “In the kitchen!” Al called. He set to work making another grilled cheese for Arthur to have, so that he would not have to eat by himself. He did not say anything to Arthur until they had both eaten. Then he stood up and instructed Arthur to get in the car.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Arthur asked.

“It’s not a kidnapping if you come freely,” Al said. 

He drove to a local park. 

They sat on a bench together, absently watching some kids run around on a playground a few feet away. They were quiet, lost in their own thoughts as they tried to figure out what to say to each other. Al was the one who broke the silence. 

“I got your voicemail you sent last night,” he said. Arthur visibly reddened. “Thank you,” Al continued, “for apologizing. Again. It’s actually what I wanted to talk about. I know you didn’t want to take advantage of me. I just clam up really easily when I get in situations like that.” Arthur nodded, understanding. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “I mean, is there something that you want to talk about?” Al shrugged. 

“I mean, not really. The last time this happened I sort of holed up for a while. But that’s because I was nervous and didn’t know what to do. The other person didn’t force anything on me, I just freaked. I guess sexual situations make me uncomfortable.” He leaned back into the bench, dropping his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for making you think you did.” 

Arthur shifted so that he and Al were facing each other. Al thought his eyes look a little red, and hoped that Arthur was not about to cry. “Alfred, if I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable I want you to tell me. I would much rather not have sex than make you uncomfortable.” He cringed a bit. “That’s a crude way of putting it, but-” Al cut him off with a quick kiss. 

“I know Artie. You’re the best.” They smiled at each other, hands moving to clasp one another. “Hey Artie?” Al breathed. 

“Yes, Alfred?” 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone destroy me so I don't have to deal with these dorks anymore


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is. The final chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and it has become very near and dear to my heart. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented, or even just read my story. I'm glad I was able to share!

“Do you have any friends?” Al asked absently one afternoon. He and Arthur were on his couch, Arthur reading the paper while Al played on his phone, head in Arthur’s lap.

“What kind of question is that?” Arthur asked, turning the page. The question did not even faze him. “Of course I have friends. You just haven’t . . . met them.” Arthur frowned and put the newspaper down. “Huh. We haven’t met each other’s friends. Why is that?” He looked down at Al expectantly. 

“My friends are . . .” Al searched for the right word. “Eccentric. Not sure if they’re your style. Plus I was a little busy wooing you, so that’s why they haven’t been formally introduced. So what’s your excuse?” 

Arthur snorted. “I was busy wooing _you_ , you oblivious arse. Also I meet most people through Francis, so that puts a bit of a damper on things. But there are a few people I’m close with that you could meet.” Al bounced up, clearly excited. 

“We’ll have a party,” he said. Arthur quirked up an eyebrow. “No really, listen: we throw a party here to celebrate . . . something. I’ll invite some of my friends and you can invite yours. Mattie knows the same people I do, so he can’t complain. Then we can have everyone mingling so we don’t have to do stiff, awkward introductions.” 

Arthur smiled at Al, enjoying his enthusiasm. “Alright, if you want. When will this party be?” 

“Next Friday.” 

“Make it a Saturday night and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Deal.” They sealed it with a kiss. 

Mattie only agreed to the party if his studio was boarded off. He did not want anyone going in there and accidentally ruining pictures or equipment. This was fine by Al, who was just happy to have people over. He had a small fantasy of being able to show off his boyfriend as he gushed about Arthur to his friends. Al beamed and began mentally forming a list of who he was going to invite. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Hey, Mattie? You almost done with that Photography project you started way back when?” Mattie nodded.

“I just need to touch up a couple more pictures and put the portfolio together. I turn it in Tuesday. Why?” 

“Nothing, just I was thinking-Arthur and I wouldn’t have met if you didn’t get us to be your models.” Mattie shrugged in response, but a small smile gave him away. 

“I like getting things done for my sibling. I figured you two would have to meet one way or another, and that this would be far more interesting than a regular intro,” he said. Al’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking. You had this planned from the beginning?”

Mattie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. I’m messing with you. I needed two models and Francis refused after he found out that you were the other model. Not that I blame him, that would’ve been awkward.” Al nodded, glad that he did not have to go through the shoot with Francis. Images of straddling Francis on the barren mattress with the French winking up at him flooded his mind. Al shuddered, trying to physically shake the idea out of him. “So Francis offered to recruit his hermit roommate for the project as well. All the mushy-gushy stuff and love at first sight or whatever you want to call it was all you and Arthur.”

Al sighed wistfully, thinking back on that first, incredibly uncomfortable meeting with Arthur. He never expected a full-on romance to blossom from it. In all honesty, Al had just been expecting a good friend, but he would not change anything about how his story with Arthur developed. 

The party had guest restrictions. Al and Mattie’s house was only so big. Only a handful of people came, but they seemed to enjoy themselves nonetheless. Al had bought snacks, dip, and drinks for nearly double the amount of invites handed out, but his hungrier friends offered no complaint. 

Arthur had arrived first, carrying a bag of ice and a platter of sweets. Francis was behind him with a cake. “Francis, did you make this?” Al asked as he eyed the decadent pastry. Francis nodded and winked. 

“How do you know Francis made it?” Arthur asked. 

“Babe, we’ve been through this. You can’t cook for shit.” Al immediately went in for a kiss to make sure Arthur did not get more defensive. The last thing he needed was an irritated boyfriend to introduce his friends to. “C’mon inside, dudes. You can put the food on the table with the other stuff. Arthur, that ice can go in the cooler with the cans of root beer.”

Guests trickled in soon after, laughing and having a good time when everyone had arrived. Al went around to the various friends he had invited, introducing them all to Arthur. 

The first was a tall man with exciting hair. “Arthur, this is Christensen,” Al said. “He and I have a couple classes together, and he’s fixed my desk more than a few times.”

“Just get a new one already!” Christensen said loudly, a huge grin playing up his features. He grasped Arthur’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you, Arthur! Keeping our girl happy?” Arthur frowned, confused. 

“Girl?” he asked, seeming dazed by the speed of the conversation.

“When I first met Christensen I was a girl and he hasn’t called me anything since,” Al explained, laughing at Arthur’s expression. 

“Yessir,” Christensen cut in. “And she is still just as pretty today! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to track down my family and some beer.” They watched him as he snooped through the coolers in search of alcohol. 

“Well that was . . . interesting,” Arthur said. 

Al squeezed Arthur’s hand, grinning. “Told you my friends were interesting. But Christensen is probably the most overwhelming, so you should be good from here on out.” Suddenly, a loud voice called out, yelling Al’s name. 

“Alfred F. Jones! You throw a party and don’t even think to come talk to your good buddy Gilbert first?” Arthur and Al turned to see a pale man - Gilbert, Arthur presumed - walking towards them. He and Al hugged and Al went through the same routine. 

“This is my boyfriend, Arthur. Arthur, this is my friend Gilbert. Don’t ask how we met.” Arthur went through this again and again, noting that all of Al’s friends were just as loud as he was, and even more energetic. After they had seen them all, Arthur flopped down onto the couch. 

“Hell, Alfred. That was exhausting and we haven’t even seen my friends.” Al laughed, sitting beside him. 

“Night’s still young. What about that guy standing in the corner like he’s lost?” Al said, pointing to a small man with short black hair. 

Arthur brightened when he saw the man, pulling Alfred over to him. “Kiku!” he called, trying to get the man’s attention over some of the noise. “Kiku, so nice to see you again. Have I introduced you to my . . . partner?” Al extended his hand, noticing how formal the man and Arthur were with each other.

“My name’s Al,” he said. “Nice to meet you. How do you know Arthur?”

Al began to notice that Arthur’s friends were much more reserved than his own were. They were polite, formal, and definitely did not dare their friends to chug a gallon of ice tea, like Gilbert was doing to Christensen right now. Arthur had invited fewer people (or rather, his guests brought fewer tagalongs) and afterwards, Al understood why Arthur had felt so wiped. 

“Man, I feel like I’ve got to be all proper around your friends,” Al said once everyone had left. There were empty plates and cups to be thrown out, and leftover food to put away, but for now Al was happy to ignore it. 

Arthur snorted in reply. “I feel like I need to join a sports team and yell whenever I say anything around your friends.”

“Touche.” Al stretched out on the couch, putting his glasses aside and closing his eyes. He felt a warm weight gently settle on his chest against the back of the couch. He smiled and shifted so that he and Arthur were both on their sides. Al held Arthur’s hand between them, humming contently.

He felt Arthur begin to play with his hair and leave small kisses dotted across Al’s face. “Hey Alfred?” Al opened his eyes, trying to get Arthur’s blurry form to focus. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Artie.” They smiled at each other, comfortable on the couch, in their relationship, in each other’s lives.


End file.
